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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472498">The woman nextdoor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imreading/pseuds/imreading'>imreading</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supergirl (TV 2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Slow Burn, SuperCorp, alteranting POV, and Lena likes it, kara's a gardener, smut in later chapters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:20:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,682</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imreading/pseuds/imreading</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kara gets a new neighbour (spoiler- it's Lena).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>447</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Four Glimpses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kara Danvers’ new neighbour moved in in March, and Kara had only gotten a glimpse of her four times in the two months that had passed since. </p><p>The first time was when she’d first moved in. The new neighbour was carrying a cardboard box up her drive as the movers carried in her furniture and Kara had just arrived home from work when she saw the moving van and looked over. Honestly, she hadn’t even realised that next door was for sale, so she was a little bit confused at first. Between the boxes, furniture, and moving van, it was pretty easy to work out what was going on: she was getting a new neighbour. </p><p>Kara would usually have gone over, maybe brought some of her famous brownies to share, said hello, asked if they needed any help with moving in, and then gone back home. That’s what she did with Winn and Ayla when they moved in across the street. She’d helped them put up half-a-dozen shelves that weekend. But, when she looked over that day, Kara decided that doing that was definitely not an option with this new neighbour.</p><p>The woman, who texted quickly with a phone in one hand and held a cardboard box balanced high on her hip in the other, was stood on her drive. The level of inherent authority and sheer intensity she exhumed made Kara’s insides twist up and her heart beat in her ears. The high heels that the blonde knew were Louboutin’s from their red soles, the pencil skirt that wrapped around the woman’s curves exquisitely tight, the sharp features on her pale face, and her ponytail without a single hair out of place on the top of her head completely entrapped Kara. She stood there staring for a minute straight practically frozen with the strength of her sudden attraction to the ordinary woman. Suddenly, as if she’d heard the blonde’s thoughts, the new woman had looked up from her phone and turned in Kara’s direction, so, like any decent, brief admirer, she all but ran inside and slammed her front door shut, feeling a blush reach the tips of her ears. </p><p>-</p><p>The second time was at the beginning of April, on a Sunday. Kara had been harvesting her lavender and bunching it up to dry in her shed all day in the garden- Eliza had asked for some to hang in their basement because it smelt like old pennies down there, so Kara had just decided to do the whole lot that weekend even though it was a little early. It was nearing dawn by that point and Kara wanted to soak up all of the rays golden hour could afford her before going in. She leant against her shed and closed her eyes, listening to the birdsong and the rustle of leaves in the light breeze. </p><p>The sound of a door opening and closing, and an annoyed voice talking down the phone is what broke the peace of the moment. “Mother, it’s been over for months. I’m sure they’ll still be open to talks about Japan, it’s not like we were married,” there was a pause, “are you kidding me? Do you even know what he did to-.”</p><p>There was another pause, this one lasted longer, and Kara decided to open her eyes and looked over to where the voice came from next door just to check if the woman was okay. The trellis fence meant that Kara could see right through into her neighbours garden, and she certainly wasn’t prepared for what she saw when she did. </p><p>The new neighbour, the woman with the high ponytail and Louboutin’s, was staring straight at her with her mouth slightly agape and the phone tilted away from her ear. Kara heard someone almost shouting at her through it when she had strained her ear to listen. The black blazer and skirt that Kara saw her in the last time were swapped out for a pair of high waisted suit trousers and a silk shirt unbuttoned so far down that Kara could see the lace of her bra. The blonde had immediately looked away, her mind going into overdrive, trying to busy herself with any thoughts other than ‘lace bra, lace bra, lace bra’ like some horny teenaged boy. She had brushed her hands together to sweep the lavender petals off and collected up the wrapped-up bundles to hang up in her shed and to give to Eliza, ducking out of sight of the woman’s deep gaze. </p><p>Even when she was heading back into her house later that evening, once the sun had begun to set, she still heard the woman next door arguing down the phone- she sounded a lot more resigned then than before. </p><p>-</p><p>The third time was on the hottest day of the year so far. Kara was, of course, out in her garden. All her friends were busy with work that day, it being a Thursday, but due to the flexible work hours of the gardening profession, Kara had taken the day off to enjoy the sunshine and get some jobs done in her own garden for once. So there she was, dressed in dungarees and her orange converse, hands covered in dirt and her hair in a quick bun, when she had heard chat next door. Nothing rash or tired like Kara was anticipating. She quickly glanced over, just out of simple curiosity, and saw that the woman next door had opened up her kitchen doors and was walking out into her garden with a toddler in her arms. A Grouplove song played from inside the house and the toddler sang along to the lyrics as best she could. The woman had nodded her head in time to the beat as she bounced the little girl on her hip. It was impossible for Kara not to watch from where she was sat amongst the wildflowers on her side of the fence, it was like listening to water run- completely unavoidable once you’ve turned the tap on. </p><p>The woman had sat at the metal table and chairs that was set out amongst the long grass and daisies which her garden mostly consisted of with the child in her lap. They began chatting about something Kara couldn’t hear, but from the excited look that was on the toddler’s face as the woman talked, it was something thrilling. Kara had wished she could be there, she wished she could get to know this woman. The woman who drove the most expensive car on the street and was never home. She wished she could hear what she was saying that made the little girl giggle so much and shout the words dinosaur whilst pointing to her little yellow dress that had printed triceratops on it. </p><p>Another woman walked out of the house then, carrying two glasses with something clear and bubbly in them and with an orange sippy-cup tucked under her elbow. She had worn a content smile on her face as she looked out at the scene in front of her. The lady was dressed in a dark pink jumpsuit that added to her model look and had the same hazel hair colour as the child, clearly being her mother. After she had stepped into the garden, the toddler began to shout for juice and both women laughed. The little girl was given her cup and started to drink from it happily as she nestled against Kara’s neighbour’s chest. </p><p>It was beautiful to watch them all be so relaxed in the sun, but Kara had her own shindig to be getting on with, plus the staring was getting weird. So she had turned back to her seedlings and got on with planting them, only glancing over every now and then when they had laughed particularly hard at something the toddler said or did between their conversations. </p><p>-</p><p>The fourth time was at the start of May, a week or so ago now. This time it was when Kara was unloading her groceries from the trunk of her car, two brown bags held under either arm, when a car sped down the road, sounding out on the otherwise quiet street. Her first thought was to turn and shake her head in disapproval, but then the car had slowed down and pulled off into the driveway beside hers. Kara watched as her neighbour hurried out of her car, wiping at the tears on her cheeks and smearing mascara all over her eyelids. Her hair was a mess, nothing like how Kara had seen her before, and her arms weren’t even in her coat- she was just wearing it over her shoulders. The woman had rushed up her drive, unlocked her front door, and slammed it shut behind herself. And that was that, none of Kara’s business. Even if her heart did ache to see the other woman so upset and she wanted to cheer her up, they were strangers to one another. Surely, it’d be weird if she went over there to make sure she was okay.</p><p>Whilst Kara was taking her third bag of groceries inside, another car had parked outside the front of the house, a man climbed out of the driver’s seat with a woman in tow (the same one from that day with the toddler). They went up to the front door and knocked, both of them looked pretty rattled and very alarmed, eyes wide and movements jittery.</p><p>Kara heard them shout at the door from her own open front door when no-one had come to answer their knocking. “Lena! Open up! Now!” the bald man had shouted, “this is not the time to be avoiding hassle!” </p><p>There was no reply again and Kara practically heard the man getting more impatient, “Lena! Let us in!”</p><p>The blonde walked out of her house to get the last bag of her shopping to see the brunette slap the man’s arm and give him a chastising look. They were both dressed in smart, expensive-looking work clothes, but the man’s tie was undone, his top button open, and the woman had half of her hair braided and the other half crinkled from being taken down. The woman said, in the calmer and understanding voice of a mother, “Lena, we know what happened today was very scary for you and you hate it when people try to fuss over you, but can you please let us in so that we can make sure you’re okay?”</p><p>The man beside her nodded his head gratefully at her and added, “we probably won’t leave until you do.”</p><p>The door had then slowly opened, revealing the now faint-looking woman. Kara had decided to turn around and lock her car right then in an attempt to not invade on their privacy whilst also trying not to let the ice-lollies in her bag melt. Her eyes strayed slightly to where Lena had let the door fall open as she leant against the wall for support, she looked very in pain and did a really bad job of hiding it. Her coat was still on her shoulders and there were car keys in her hands as though she’d never even moved from the door after she’d first gotten in. “I’m fine, see?” she croaked, the tenseness of her jaw gave her away and her friends dropped their calm act pretty quickly. </p><p>“Oh my God Lena,” the man had exclaimed, “what’s wrong? Are you okay darling??” </p><p>The woman, Lena, shook her head as tears began to visibly pool in her eyes. “I just want to go to sleep and forget today ever happened,” she said shakily. </p><p>“And you can do that, let us just make you a nice tea and get you settled first. Anyone would be shaken up after today’s events,” the brunette promised and stepped forward to take the coat off Lena’s shoulders. </p><p>Kara heard as the woman winced and then her friends were gasping and shouting. “Jesus Christ Lena! Call an ambulance Sam,” the man ordered, “we know you hate fuss, but this is next level. Look at you!” </p><p>The brunette, Sam, stepped away from the pair and had taken her phone out from her coat pocket. “No!” Lena pleaded, her voice firm and demanding despite her face being even paler than usual, “not an ambulance I don’t want to-.” </p><p>“Cause a scene,” the man finished for her with a sigh, “okay, no ambulance. But you are going to the hospital, whether you like it or not, so I suggest you get in the car.”</p><p>Sam pocketed her phone again and helped the man support Lena as they walked down the drive and towards his car. Kara had gotten a glimpse of dark purple bruising poking out from under the woman’s shirt sleeve- where the coat hadn’t covered her arm around her wrist. Lena looked up and their eyes met for a second. Kara saw a bruise also forming on her forehead, around a little cut that was there. With each step towards the car Lena had grimaced despite the help from her friends who kept her from collapsing. </p><p>Kara wanted to go over there and pick her up to save her the discomfort of walking, or do something equally helpful, anything helpful really. But, of course, all she did was watch, feeling useless as the injured woman’s friends sat her down and did up her seatbelt for her. She watched on as they pulled out of the drive and sped off in the direction of the hospital, leaving Kara (and the few neighbours who’d come out to see what was going on) standing there confused and, in Kara’s case, anxious. </p><p>-</p><p>Other than those four times, Kara hadn’t seen the woman next door at all. Her car was always gone when the blonde went to work in the morning and was never back when she got home (which was in the afternoon usually, but even when the blonde would get in late the drive next-door was still empty). Kara would’ve been suspicious of her actually living there at all had she not heard the occasional sounds of life in those months from March to when she was taken to hospital the other week. Sounds like loud arguments between the woman and someone she assumes must be her boyfriend who is always parking obnoxiously across the sidewalk, sometimes banging on the walls on the weekends that could be a hammer and a nail, or… well…. sex, every now and then she’d hear laughter through their shared wall, and, quite often, music playing loud in the evening. That’s the joys of semi-detached living, Kara supposes. </p><p>But things completely change in May. Firstly, there was the whole thing with Lena’s friends and the hospital trip – which had been a big deal in the neighbourhood group chat that Kara paid no mind to. Then, there was no sign of the woman for a week or two after that, which led to suspicion and rumours starting up- another thing Kara paid no mind to. Every day a neat young woman would go into the Lena’s house with cat food and then leave minutes later, but that was all. It’s not that Kara would check before bed or anything- which she obviously did not do because she’s not a stalker- but after Sam had come and, Kara assumed, picked up some of Lena’s things, taking Lena’s car with her when she left, the blonde hadn’t seen the car come back since. </p><p>Lena hadn’t been back in just under two weeks. That is until today. </p><p>-</p><p>Kara is working on her front garden this time. It had been gaining a new weed each day by the looks of things and she’d taken an azalea bush from one of her clients who didn’t want it in their garden anymore the other day that needed planting. So there she was, grass stained jeans and a dirty white t-shirt on, a spade in her hand and sweat on her brow from the hot spring sun, when a car parked on the curb in front of her house. </p><p>A woman she hasn’t seen before gets out of the driver’s seat this time, an older woman with a permanent frown on her face and severe, cold eyes that look critically over Lena’s half of the house. Lena’s drive doesn’t have any plants on it, only a climbing wisteria that goes up to the second floor of her house and some nice stone steps that a black cat usually lounges out on. It’s almost comical that it’s the exact opposite of Kara’s drive, hers being filled with plants and a barley used car. </p><p>The passenger side door swings open and the older woman immediately starts chastising who it is that climbs out. “Lena, I don’t see why you don’t just buy a house in the city. What happened to that nice penthouse you looked at? The one with the marble floors. You wouldn’t have to commute so far everyday if you lived there.”</p><p>“Do you mean the penthouse that you made me and Morgan look at? The one I said I didn’t like?” Lena replies, moving stiffly towards the door, one arm in a cast and sling that has a book tucked into it and the other holding a duffle bag. </p><p>“There are plenty of pleasant penthouses in the city, ones with doormen, decent parking and nearby bars.” </p><p>“Mother, we are still in the city here. There are bars and,” Lena gestured with her good arm around at the driveway, “I don’t need decent parking.” </p><p>“Those hippie brothels don’t count as bars, Lena,” the woman tuts, “they’re hardly good for your reputation.”</p><p>Kara can’t help but feel a stab of hurt at the local bars that she finds herself in every Saturday, surrounded by friendly faces and good quality beer, being called ‘hippie brothels’. </p><p>The woman continues, “a lady with your social standing shouldn’t be seen in such places if you want to maintain a good status.” </p><p>“I’m sorry, we need to get back in the car. I think you just dropped us off in the nineteen hundreds by mistake,” Lena deadpans. </p><p>Kara lets out an involuntary snort of laughter at that and immediately realises what she’s done with pure mortification. She can feel the heat growing in her cheeks and two sets of eyes boring into her as she tries her best to get on with weeding the same patch she’s been doing for the last couple of minutes, a secret smile on her face because that was funny. She glances a look up for less than a second, to check that she hasn’t annoyed her neighbour by listening to their conversation (not that she really had much of a choice) and sees Lena’s smug little grin instead. It makes Kara’s heart soar with pride at being the reason why. </p><p>They shuffle into the house, the older woman silenced for a second with shock at the interruption but continues with her criticisms soon enough. “Do you see what I mean? This area isn’t good for your position-,” her voice is cut off by the door clicking shut. </p><p>The older woman, Lena’s mother, leaves an hour or so after that and then next door is completely quiet. Kara finds herself wandering what the woman might be up to once she’s settled into bed, but the smell of marijuana that floats through into her side of the house is answer enough. </p><p>-</p><p>The sightings increase from then on. Kara spots Lena reading a book sat at her garden table a few times with a coffee resting in her palms and that black cat in her lap. Sam and her toddler visit occasionally, and they all hang out with the kitchen doors open. She hears enough heated phone conversations for Kara to feel sorry for the woman next door and wander who it is she’s telling to ‘stop calling without plausible reason’ and ‘have lawyers present the next time they meet’. </p><p>The first time they actually talk is towards the end of May after a particularly long heatwave. It’s just started to pelt down with rain and Kara’s stood at her kitchen doors watching her blooming garden finally get a drink- fresh roses need the rain after all. Movement next door catches her eye and she watches for a moment as Lena rushes to take down the clothes on her washing line, but her arm is still it that shoulder high cast so she struggles to do it fast enough and all her newly dried clothes are getting wet. </p><p>In a split-second decision, Kara hurries out into her own garden and calls to her, “would you like some help?” </p><p>The woman looks over, a series of emotions running across her face- Kara choses to overlook the butterfly stiches on her forehead from where it was cut for now. Shock, confusion, hesitance, all flash across her features, finishing with appreciation. Kara recognises it as Lena nods and the blonde hurries through the side entrance, going straight into her neighbours garden. Lena holds the basket as Kara quickly takes everything down from the line, including some silky underwear that Kara does not blush over touching, and folds it into the basket. The blonde takes it from the injured woman, who was struggling to hold it with just one arm, and carries it into Lena’s house though the open kitchen doors. </p><p>She sets the basket down on one of Lena’s kitchen counters and Lena follow her inside. “Thank you,” she says to Kara, her good hand playing with the hem of her shirt, but when she seems to realise what she’s doing her hand slides into her pocket instead. </p><p>“It’s not a problem. I didn’t want your clothes to get wet, that probably would’ve been annoying,” Kara replies in what she hopes isn’t an awkward manner. </p><p>She glances around at Lena’s kitchen nosily- she’s never seen inside before (not that she would’ve obviously), and it’d be a lie if she said she wasn’t interested. Kara deducts that it’s nice. Really nice in fact. Wooden countertops, light grey cupboards with matching tiles, glass jars filled with herbs and spices, dark green plants in nice dark grey pots that match the shelving- the same shelves that are lined with large pots of different types of coffee granules, green-tea bags, and raspberry flake granola cereal (the same one that Kara likes), as well as a fluffy black cat that’s come to sit on top of the fresh washing. Kara smiles at it and scratches behind his ear. “Your kitchen is… I really like it,” Kara finishes lamely. </p><p>Lena’s eyes drift from where she’s watching her cat fall against Kara’s hand to get her to scratch more up to the blonde’s face. “Um, thanks. I designed it myself,” Lena replies, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.</p><p>“Well, you did a good job. It’s flawless,” Kara says, chuckling with how impressed she is. </p><p>Lena’s good hand comes up to rub behind her neck nervously. “I think Felix likes you,” she points out. </p><p>Kara looks down to where the black cat is rolled over and batting at her hand with his paws. “Aww,” she coos, bending down so her face is closer to his on the counter, “is that your name handsome fella? Do you like me Felix? Little scratch for you then.” </p><p>She moves her hand down so she can give him a good scratch on his fluffy belly, like how she would with Alex and Maggie’s dogs, but the cat’s claws come out of nowhere and make a grab for her hand. Kara yelps and jumps back, holding her hand against her chest and out of grabbing reach. She hears a laugh from beside her and turns her betrayed face towards Lena as a pout forms on her lips. </p><p>“I wouldn’t take it personally if I were you,” she says, “he does that to everyone.” </p><p>Kara turns her glare back on the evil cat and narrows her eyes at him. “It’s too late, I’m already thinking about which water gun I should get back at him with,” Kara says and then leans in real close to the cats face and whispers, “you tricked me, I’ll give you that, but I won’t fall for that cute little face again, mark my words.”</p><p>Lena laughs twice as hard. “He probably does need someone to put him in his place.” </p><p>“You can count on me to do that,” Kara stands up, straight as a soldier, and does a mock salute, making Lena laugh again. </p><p>The blonde catches sight of some papers sat on the kitchen table that the woman clearly been working at before the rain had started. There’s a laptop with graphs and all kinds of statistics Kara can’t keep track of on the screen and the writing on the papers is scraggly, like it had been written by a five-year-old. The woman’s right arm is the one in the cast, so it’s not a huge jump to assume it’s her left handwriting.</p><p> Kara realises that her neighbour is probably struggling with her broken arm and doing things- like writing and taking down her washing. She also remembers that Lena doesn’t like fuss, according to her friends, so she goes for a casual approach. </p><p>“Hey, if you ever need help with anything, I’m right next door, you know? And I’m not busy at the moment so all you’ve gotta do is knock,” the blonde offers, “literally anything. I can write pretty fast if you need to get some work done.” </p><p>Lena stares at her awful handwriting for a moment before shaking her head at herself. “Oh no, there’s no rush with all that. I’m not actually supposed to be working at the moment,” she admits sheepishly. </p><p>“Oh. How come? Because of your arm?” Kara asks. </p><p>The woman’s eyes widen slightly, and Kara worries that maybe she’s crossed a boundary. She tends to be a little bit too friendly with strangers so it wouldn’t be the first time. </p><p>“Sort of, my therapist thinks I need some time to ‘recuperate and relax’ so I’ve been made to take time off,” she replies, stopping Kara’s thoughts from spiralling.</p><p>Felix hops down from the counter, deciding that Kara isn’t a good source of attention, and wanders over to rub himself against Lena’s calves.</p><p>“Not to be rude or anything, but it doesn’t really look like you’re following that advice very well,” Kara admits, motioning towards her worktop where the papers and her laptop sits. </p><p>Lena just chuckles, “yeah, I’m not very good at following advice, especially not any I disagree with.”</p><p>Kara laughs, “I can tell.”</p><p>They acknowledge each other for a moment, Felix deciding that neither of them are good for attention and laying down between them instead as they do. Kara hasn’t had such an easy flowing conversation like this since high school, nor one she’s enjoyed quite as much. She knows she’s been crushing on the woman next door. Since the day Lena moved in Kara’s been attracted to her, who wouldn’t? But now, knowing her nature is just as brilliant as her looks, that crush seems to grow even more. Before she could tolerate being a stranger to this mysterious woman, now though? Kara’s heard her laugh and seen her smile, now all she wants to do for the rest of her life is make sure she never forgets what either are like. </p><p>“Do you like brownies?” she asks. </p><p>“Brownies?” Lena says, her eyebrows furrow and her lips turn up, “why’d you ask?” </p><p>“I make some really good ones and I know for a fact they’ll help you relax, doctors’ orders and all, but I’ll only make them if you like them…” Kara explains. </p><p>“Oh right. Well, I don’t usually eat anything sugary, but I think I can indulge myself this one time,” Lena laughs, “especially if you’re the one making them.” </p><p>Kara blushes at that and ducks her head, laughing. “I’ll bring them ‘round tomorrow then,” she promises and walks over to the back door that’s still open. </p><p>“Thank you for help with the washing….,” Lena says, trailing off. </p><p>“Kara,” she supplies. </p><p>“Thank you for your help Kara,” the woman says, smiling. </p><p>“Really, it was no problem. I meant what I said earlier too, if you need help with anything, I’m just next-door,” Kara reminds her and steps out into the rain. </p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lena says, and they give each other one last smile before Kara is darting off to her own house. </p><p>And that is where it began.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>next chapter will probably be Lena's POV to give some context</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Just a scratch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Context for what the fuck happened to Lena.</p><p>This chapter contains violence, blood, injury and other scary shit so, if you want to know but that stuff triggers you, I can explain what happens in the comments :D</p><p>Lena's POV</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is only part one of what happens (it was getting way too long so I split it into two chapters). Part two will be out later this week.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lena has sat through a three-hour long board meeting that started at eight AM that morning, then had to fire an incompetent lab rat for leaking one of L-Corp’s up-coming projects to the press before its release date, and denied the permission for two employees to take time off even though she knows they more than deserve it because someone has to clean up that PR mess and Lena doesn’t want to do it alone, all before lunch today. </p><p>So, all in all, today has been a shit day. </p><p>And to add to all of that, Morgan has been calling her office relentlessly the whole time. Jess had been told to decline all calls from him, but he still hasn’t gotten the message. It’s been three months of the same thing- denied calls and angry voice mails. Anyone would wonder if he actually ran a business with how much time he must spend calling her. It’s starting to get on her nerves.</p><p>Lena knows she can’t avoid him forever. Moving to a new house in the suburbs and staying in her office all day long hasn’t be enough to keep him off her back so far.</p><p>He found her house, and they’ve had enough arguments in her living room to warrant having it sound proofed to give her neighbours a break. But after each argument they have, she knows he still hasn’t gotten the point. As though he won’t accept anything that isn’t her returning to their penthouse and keeping her mouth shut about their ‘time apart’. If they aren’t seen at gala’s together or on any more of their monthly mandatory date nights, the media will quickly catch on to their ‘couple’s trouble’ which is the last thing he’ll want. Morgan Edge is a man with a big ego and half of his success is built around reputation rather than results, he can’t afford rumours speculating around his personal life. Soon he’ll come knocking on Lena’s office door to drag her back to their sterile apartment or, worse, he’ll go straight to Lillian and get her to do it. The last thing she needs is her mother breathing down her neck too. </p><p>It’s like she’s living in Limbo right now, Lena will either end up back living with Morgan or with a restraining order against him.</p><p>It’s not even like he did anything wrong necessarily. Morgan was fine. Is fine. He never smiled at her other than the occasional shark grin, he didn’t buy her flowers or take her to the movies- they didn’t even watch T.V together, he didn’t like to spend more than twenty minutes in her presence really. It suited her though, the feeling was mutual. Every date night they ever went on was somewhere public so that the press could see that they were a very functioning couple. She doubts that a single thing he did for her was really out of the genuine love he had for her in his heart. </p><p>Her and Morgan were arranged, as all her other relationships had been. Every relationship she’d ever known had been arranged, it was normal for heirs and heiresses to have them. Lena thinks Sam might actually be the only person she knows who’s been in love with who she’s dated. </p><p>And because they were arranged, her and Morgan had nothing in common other than their wealth; they didn’t share any of the same views, like any of the same movies or music, they couldn’t even agree on what colours their outfits for social events would be and there were usually only four or so colour combinations to choose from. They didn’t exactly get together because they liked the same sports team, so of course wealth was the only thing they had in common.</p><p> Well, maybe not <em>the only thing</em> they had in common.</p><p>Afterall, Morgan did understand the long work hours, busy schedules, lengthy business trips, late nights, and the early mornings that came with being a CEO, which very few people her mother had paired her with ever did. He never argued with her when she didn’t have time for him, and he never did with her. </p><p>It was probably the only reason why they had lasted so long. </p><p>Anyway, Lena is sat there, in her office at L-Corp, pushing the lettuce in her salad around with her fork and flipping through Home Depot’s paint selection as she tries to decide which colour would look best in her home office. </p><p>Even though it’s likely she’s going to end up back in that stiff downtown penthouse apartment again in the future, there’s no harm in pretending she won’t. Which is why she bought herself a house. </p><p>Her new home is more than half the price of her and Morgan’s apartment, and when she first moved in, she barley had any belongings that she’d actually chosen for herself or liked to put in it. She’d never had a place of her own that she’d chosen by herself for herself. Not even what her college accommodation would be was a decision she got to make. Lillian had made sure of that. But this new place, it was all her own to fill with whatever she wanted. Whatever she truly <em>liked</em>. </p><p>At first, Lena didn’t even know what that was. Did she like warm colours or cold colours? Cosy or spacious? Minimalist or maximalist? Cacti or ferns? Lena had never had the chance to figure it out before. It’s like she barley even knew herself. Lena could probably get an interior designer to decide for her, she could definitely afford one, but this was something she wanted to learn about herself. She’d been craving it more than she’d realised.</p><p> She wanted to have a home of her own, something she could be proud of, and for Lena that meant choosing colours by herself and painting the walls without any help. It was embarrassing to be nearly thirty and never having painted a single wall in her whole life. She’d been red faced when she had to look up how to do it right, even though nobody was around to see her do it. </p><p>For once, Lillian didn’t get a say over something in her life. It was a learning curve she felt the need to put herself through and was too good an opportunity to pass up. And for some reason that meant not having decorators paint her walls and put up her picture frames or interior designers pick out the colours of her cushions and the shape of her carpet or even the IKEA assembly service help put together her filing cabinets and her kitchen table. </p><p>Jess had insisted, but Lena was stubborn. This house was going to be hers and hers only. </p><p>She’s sure that Kathrine from accounting and her three sons were more than happy to take up residence in her old penthouse- the one she didn’t share with Morgan- for half the house’s price value. Therefore, Lillian couldn’t make her move back into the city on such short notice or, because this was something she’d bought with money she’d actually earnt and not money that had come out of her trust fund, make her sell her new house. If Lena had chosen a place in the only part of National City where her Mother had no landholdings or owned any of the real estate, then that was no-one but Lena’s business. </p><p>So, yes, she is sat in her office chair with her heels on the floor beside her bare feet, flipping between ‘stardew grey’ and ‘eider white’ instead of finishing off the cybernetics progress reports that’re stacked up on her desk. Sue her. </p><p>The last thing Lena Luthor needs today is an afternoon meeting in Star City. And yet, there she was a few moments after her phone alarm that signalled the end of her lunch break went off, pulling her coat tighter around her frame on the roof of L-Corp as the helicopter blades noisily started up. Meetings like these could be done over the phone, usually that’s how they are done, but this old-aged potential-investor wants to see her face to face as they finalised their contracts. It should take less than an hour to get done, so a commercial flight out to Star City would be pointless and it’s not far away enough to use up the fuel of the family’s private jet, leaving a helicopter as the most logical choice. </p><p>With the meeting’s paper contracts safely tucked away in her briefcase, she steps into the helicopter, nodding to the pilot as the woman goes about flicking switches and pressing buttons. The expected swoop of nausea passes through Lena as the helicopter first lifts off, but quickly abates once they get high enough above the skyscrapers to begin the short journey to Star City. </p><p>But they don’t even make it out of National City before the first explosion goes off. </p><p>The whole helicopter shakes with the force of it. Lena watches as the debris falls from the tail rotor and it sets alight with flames. The pilot and her share a terrified look as the helicopter starts to tip. Lena keeps her eyes focused on the ground and clenches her fists around the buckles keeping her strapped to the seat, willing herself not to panic as the pilot speaks into her microphone hurriedly. </p><p>
  <em>Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t-</em>
</p><p>“Don’t worry Miss Luthor, we’ll-,” the pilot begins, but there’s another explosion behind them.</p><p> The entire helicopter’s tail is lost in the blast and falls the few hundred feet to the ground.</p><p>Instantly, the whole thing spins out of control and Lena watches as the pilot tries her best to steer them away from all the buildings, but with the spinning only getting faster and all they can see being blurs of brick and glass, it’s hard to know what direction to go in. Dark grey smoke starts to slowly filter into the cockpit and the pilot begins to cough whilst Lena sits there, unable to move. Her heart has frozen with terror, and her mind is screaming at her to do something, anything to stop this from happening. This isn’t her first assassination attempt, but it might be her fucking last. And all she can do is take short, quick breaths and hold back curses. </p><p>She can’t die. She <em>can’t</em> die. </p><p>But, as if in rebellion, the helicopter just spins faster and faster and the pilot beside her is practically screaming at it to stop as she does her best to control it and Lena’s ears are ringing from the explosions and the trees are getting closer and closer and the fall of the helicopter makes her stomach flip and her hands have begun to tremble, her whole body is trembling by the time the cockpit crashes into the park. It’s a split second of watching metal crumble through the thick smoke and her blurred eyes when it hits the floor. She hears a sickening crack as the front of the helicopter right beside her folds towards her and then all she can see and hear, and feel is pain searing up her right side. </p><p>“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants, her head lolling as her eyes become unfocused. </p><p>At some point she must of passed out because the next time she opens her eyes all she can see is dark, thick smoke and she knows enough about helicopters to know that the engine is probably the next thing to go up in flames, the engine with avgas pumping through it… that would be the worst explosion yet. </p><p>After unbuckling the straps across her waist and chest, clenching her jaw though the pain of taking her injured arm from the belts, she registers screaming. It’s so loud that, at first, she thinks it’s her own. But then she feels a pair of hands scrambling for the hem of her coat. Lena spots the pilot, the person screaming and crying for help with her legs trapped in the crumpled front of the cockpit, her eyes bloodshot and a cheek already bruising.</p><p>Lena unbuckles the woman’s belts and pulls her head gear off. Then she tries to push at the metal that’s encasing the pilots legs but it’s no use and the smoke is only getting thicker. They’ll choke on that before the explosion can take them if they don’t get out soon. Another thing she thinks to try as the smoke fills her lungs and she starts coughing too, is to grab the woman beneath hers’ arms and try to pull her from the wreckage. But with only one arm free, it’s too difficult. So, she rushes to take out the penknife from her pocket- a gift from her self-defence teacher- flipping open the sharpest knife with her teeth, and she cuts through a set of the seats straps. </p><p>As she wraps a strap around the woman’s shoulders and secures it over her own elbow, Lena hears sirens. It’s nearby, though with her ears still ringing and the pilot’s screaming it’s hard to make out precisely. They can’t afford to wait to be rescued, so Lena doesn’t stop to work it out. </p><p>She makes sure her feet are planted firmly and then she’s pulling, pulling, pulling. Even as the woman screams for her to stop and the smoke makes her eyes water, she pulls and pulls until both of the pilots legs are free. She barley spares a glance for the way they look, before dragging them both from the cockpit through the shattered glass of one of the windows, onto damp grass, and far, far away from the oppressive heat and suffocating smoke from the blaze. </p><p>She hears someone shouting for people to stay back from the helicopter and others talking on the phone to 911, and as she looks around coughing the air into her lungs, there’s people practically swarming them with their phones up. She instinctively goes to smooth over her hair with her left hand, her right arm hanging uselessly at her side as the adrenaline overwhelms the pain, to make sure there’s no loose strands sticking up from her ponytail, but when she feels something wet instead and her hand comes back red it makes her lightheaded. </p><p>She’s very close to passing out for a second time before the sirens snap her out of it. There’s possibly a dying person passed out between her legs; she remembers. Lena brings her hand down to the pilots neck, finding the pulse quickly with how fast it’s going. She thinks she should probably be putting the woman in the recovery position, but she recalls something she was taught about spinal injuries and before she can stop herself she’s thinking about how she dragged the woman from a helicopter without checking for any spinal damages and then about the burning helicopter that’s crashed in the middle of a park where the public are and then she’s glancing around to make sure nobody else got hurt when they crashed as blood drips down passed her eye. </p><p>Right before she starts to have a panic attack in front of everyone who have now crowded around them, there’s people in fire-fighting gear urging people back and a few men in light blue shirts pushing through with stretchers and heavy paramedic bags on their shoulders coming right their way. </p><p>The men rush over to where her and the pilot are collapsed on the floor. They go to the passed-out woman first, rolling her into a multitude of different braces and lifting her onto the stretcher swiftly. Lena doesn’t let them get further than pressing a cloth to her bleeding forehead. Pushing herself up despite the guidance of the paramedics, she takes a moment to clear the dizziness from her mind and pulls her coat up higher on her shoulders.</p><p>Even with everyone pushed back and the fire being cautiously extinguished, Lena still feels jumpy and each time a shiver ripples through her it sends a shooting pain down her arm like it’s being torn apart from the inside. The paramedics are instructing her to sit on the stretcher and they’re doing all sort of checks on her, but she waves them off a bit too aggressively for someone who knows that they’re just trying to do their jobs. </p><p>There’s a commotion in the crowd and Lena glances over to see Sam and Lex ducking under some police tape- when did the police arrive? - and rushing in her direction. </p><p>“Lena!” Sam calls, sounding beyond relieved, “oh my god, are you okay? I thought you’d-.”</p><p>“Are you <em>bleeding</em>?” Lex cuts in, his voice is neither relieved nor concerned, if anything it’s confused, like he actually didn’t expect her to be able to bleed. </p><p>“It’s just a scratch, I’m fine,” Lena assures, her eyes focused on the ambulance the pilot has been taken into. </p><p>“How can you be fine?! You just fell out of the sky!” Sam exclaims. </p><p>“Sam,” Lex hisses, “you need some water?” he turns to Lena, “why is no-one assessing you?” He says it loud enough for the paramedics who she pushed away to hear. </p><p>“I don’t need assessing, can we go?” Lena grits out. The pain has started to build again, and she can feel it all the way through her arm, up her shoulder and down her shoulder blade. </p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous Lena. You could have all sorts of internal injuries. God, is that blood on your shirt too?” Sam says, looking at her collar. </p><p>“I’ve already told you, <em>I’m fine</em>. So, let’s go,” Lena says, forcing her voice to remain level as she does, “my car’s at L-corp.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s a good idea Lena. I’m pretty sure you just went through an NDE for God’s sake! You’re better off in the hospital than L-Corp right now,” Sam urges. </p><p>Lena swallows past the nausea that rises in her throat at her friends seriousness. “No, I’m not going to any hospitals. Can you please drop me at L-corp? It’s only a few blocks from here,” Lena says it with her jaw still clenched as another round of pain crashes through her. </p><p>She looks to Lex for help and for a moment she thinks he might agree with Sam, but his eyes soften even if he hides it behind a huff. </p><p>“Okay, if you want to go to L-Corp, fine. I don’t care as long as we’re not stood in this fucking field any longer. This is a new suit and I won’t be happy if smells like engine oil and smoke after this,” Lex says and Sam sighs. </p><p>Just as they turn to go, one of the paramedics stops them with a call from where he's stood by his ambulance, like he's been waiting for her. “Where are you going? We need to take you to the hospital to get you checked over by a doctor.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Lena lies. </p><p>“It’s better to make sure though,” he insists, “just as a precaution.” </p><p>“I don’t need to,” Lena counters. </p><p>“Why not?” </p><p>Lena quickly stalks over and lowers her voice so that Lex and Sam can’t hear her lie, “let’s make a deal, okay? I will go to the hospital, like you want me to, but you let me get there on my own.”</p><p>“The ambulance would be faster,” the man persists. </p><p>Lena digs the nails of her good hand into her palm as yet another wave of pain washes through her. “How about this then? Because I am not detained under the Mental Health Act and my life is not in direct danger, I am well within my rights to refuse any treatment and if you continue to do so it will become a form of assault,” Lena rushes out, her sight is beginning to blacken around the edges and she really just wants to go home and let the tears stinging at her eyes fall, “thank you for your concern, really, but I’d like to be left alone now.”</p><p>Her voice cracks at the end and she curses the traitorous sound when understanding seeps into the paramedics demeanour. Lena trudges away before he can say anything more and they reach Lex’s car in the parking lot in time to see the pilot’s ambulance being whisked away. </p><p>“Do <em>not</em> get any blood on my car,” Lex orders as they all file in.</p><p>-</p><p>Once they reach L-Corp’s underground garage, where Lena parked her car this morning, the cut on her forehead has stopped bleeding so rapidly, if not completely. Wincing when she takes the cloth away, she tucks the bloody thing into her trouser pocket and ignores any thoughts about what Lillian would think if she were to find the stain it’ll undoubtedly leave behind. </p><p>She gets a head rush when she stands up and has to put her arm out on the car to steady herself. Sam and Lex share worried glances, and, in the back of her mind, she wonders when they became so chummy with one-another. Last time she saw them together Sam was ready to bite his head off. To stop them from fretting over her anymore, she straightens up and pulls out her phone. If there’s one thing they both understand, it’s business. She’s a busy woman who doesn’t need to be babied, and this is probably the best way to get that across. </p><p>Jess’ number is already on speed dial so it only takes a second for the assistant to pick up. “Jess, can you call Mr Steele and let him know that I’m sorry about the meeting, but I’ll have to cancel? Tell him that he can schedule another for a later date if he wishes to,” Lena says, her voice only slightly laced with pain. </p><p>“Miss Luthor! I’ve just seen the news; which hospital were you taken to??” Jess replies, “do you need me to get you anything? Overnight clothes? A toothbrush? Felix?” </p><p>Lena lets out a tense laugh, “no that’s alright Jess, thank you. I’ll call you later if I do.”</p><p>“Well okay,” her assistant hesitantly replies, “if you’re sure Miss Luthor.”</p><p>“See you tomorrow Jess,” Lena says, not completely sure if she will, and ends the call. </p><p>She starts to shake again then and, her plan for normal-ness failing, even as Sam and Lex pull out their phones to dial 911 the second they see it, Lena can’t get herself to stop. So, she turns away from them, walking in the opposite direction to find where she parked her car this morning. It doesn’t occur to her that she parks her car in the same spot every morning, her mind to focused on taking her keys out of her pocket. </p><p>The pain in her arm has quickly begun to grow now that most of the adrenaline from the crash has drained away, the highest spikes becoming nearly unbearable, like the real agony had just been simmering beneath the surface the whole time. Tears prick at her eyes and she wipes at them angrily, cursing this shitty day and whoever it was that tried to kill her this time. </p><p>“Lena! Why are you rushing off?” Lex calls. </p><p>She unlocks her car and swings the door open, ready to leave and sleep off this bad day. Managing to catch the door before she can pull it shut, Lex gives her a sorry look. “Let me drive you,” Lex offers, “you’re not in the right state to drive yourself.”</p><p>Lena wants to tell him to fuck off and leave her alone, but she refrains, too tired to do this right now. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m fine?” she says instead. </p><p>“Many, many more times,” Lex manically replies. </p><p>“Calm down you two, there’s no rush,” Sam sighs, “Lena. Let Lex drive you.”</p><p>“Absolutely not,” Lena doesn’t miss a beat. </p><p>“Why not?” Lex exclaims, “why are you so intent on being difficult about this??” </p><p>Now that they’re not stood in front of any members of the camera-armed public, Lex’s real feelings are being quickly revealed. A sudden shoot of pain, worse than any of the constant stream she’s been feeling, makes her keel over and tense up, a wounded hiss falling from her lips.</p><p>“Lena!” both Sam and Lex call out. </p><p>“I’ve had enough of this. I’m going home,” Lena says, tugging her door from Lex’s grasp, locking it shut and driving out of the garage before Sam and her brother have a chance to get a word in. </p><p>As soon as she’s out of their sight, her eyes burst with tears and they increasingly stream down her cheeks, ragged sobs following close behind. She’s always cried when she’s in pain, unlike Lex who’d scream and shout about it. It was one of the things Lillian was adamant she ‘got over’. Lena hadn’t realised how close to tears she was until she’s gasping for breath between sobs and has to park on an empty street in order to calm down.</p><p>She’s sick of this. This being trying to do good and only receiving negative backlash for it, most often in the form of an assassination attempt. She’s had at least one a month since taking over LuthorCorp from Lex and rebranding it last year, ranging from drunk ex-employees running up to her in the street wielding broken bottles and to now being blown out of the sky. Lena’s never been one for avoiding pissing powerful people off, but perhaps today is the time to start. </p><p>God, and the pain. She feels sick with how it grips her entire body as she shakes with the force of it ripping through her entire right side. It’s pure fucking agony, nothing like she’s ever experienced before, not even like when she fell off her horse when she was twelve and broke her ankle. </p><p>Lena rolls up the sleeve of her shirt, cautiously avoiding touching any part of her arm. Getting it up to the elbow is far enough to make her feel faint.  There’s enough bruising and swelling to know it’s broken, but in case that wasn’t enough to go off of, the unnatural angle it’s bent in is a pretty good indicator too. Lena almost passes out for at least the third time in the last hour, and only the thought of getting under the weighted quilt on her new bed motivates her to get back onto the highway. </p><p>By the time she makes it to her street in the suburbs, Lena is shocked there aren’t any police trailing behind her with the amount of speed limits she’s broken on the way. She forced herself to think about the warmth of her bed and the comfort of the covers as she fought back nausea and panic attacks. Every time the pain flares up in her arm she reminds herself of how soft they are and Felix's purrs as he settles down on them. But soon even that becomes insignificant and just getting to the door seems impossible. </p><p>The tears come quickly when she reaches her drive, comforted by the sight of it as she stumbles for the door handle. Lena notices her neighbour stood in her own overgrown front-garden, carrying brown bags from her battered old car. The Luthor might have taken a second to appreciate the woman’s strength had she not been in such a rush to hide from the her stunned look. Instead, she runs to her door, wiping at her stupid tears, and slams the heavy thing shut, sobs racking her body now that she’s alone once again.</p><p>Somehow, the pain has gotten even worse and she feels the useless arm going numb. Even her breathing elicits small tinges of pain along the limb and she wills herself to stop crying and get some ice for it. She’s not stupid, with all the attempts on her life she took first aid courses and Lena knows that she is supposed to be keeping the injury elevated, but she can’t trust herself to walk with how weak her legs feel with just being stood. It makes her cry harder, the comfort of her bed not being enough to keep her calm now knowing that she wouldn’t be able to reach it anyway. </p><p>That is until she hears another car parking outside and the tell-tale stomp of Lex’s boots and the clicking of Sam’s heels coming up her driveway. She can’t deny the relief she feels having them there, even when Lex starts to shout at her to open the door in the angry way he does when he’s worried. </p><p>She can’t imagine what her neighbours (neighbour) must be thinking. </p><p>Sam breaks through her spiralling thoughts with her calm and concerned voice, one that Lena’s heard her use on her daughter many times. “Lena, we know what happened today was very scary for you,” she says, and Lena hears a mumbled “scary for the whole city I’d say” from Lex even through the thick wood of the door before the woman carries on, “and you hate it when people try to fuss over you, but can you please let us in so that we can make sure you’re okay?” </p><p>“We probably won’t leave until you do,” Lex adds, knowing his sister likes nothing more than being left to sort problems out on her own. </p><p>Lena knows the truth behind their words and also that she can’t stay stood here waiting for the pain to dull down when it’s just getting worse with each passing second just waiting for her to faint from it. So, she quickly wipes at her tears and pulls the door open. </p><p>The pointed look her friends pin her with as she slumps against the wall makes her think back to her conversation with the paramedic and prompts her to say, “I’m fine, see?” </p><p>She grimaces as she forces herself to stand up straighter and tenses her jaw against a hiss. But they certainly notice it as Lex starts to bombard her with his genuine worry. Lena tries to shake off the fresh tears pooling in her eyes as she replies, “I just want to go to sleep and forget this day ever happened.”</p><p>“And you can do that, let us just make you a nice tea and get you settled first. Anyone would be shaken up after today’s events,” Sam says softly and reaches up for her coat.</p><p>Before Lena can stop her, she’s revealed the undoubtedly broken arm from where it was hidden under the coat, her shirt pulled up from earlier when she’d looked at it herself, making Lena grimace as the heavy material is lifted. Lex flinches and Sam gasps as they take in the unusual shape and bruising covering it. </p><p>“Jesus Christ Lena!” Lex exclaims, “call an ambulance Sam. We know you hate fuss, but this is next level. Look at You!” </p><p>Lex tugs down her sleeve a little bit too harshly and covers her back up with her coat, Lena wobbling on her feet as he does. Sam dials the first two digits on her phone before Lena catches on to what she’s doing. “No!” Lena calls, stopping her from dialling the last digit, “not an ambulance. I don’t want to-.”</p><p>“Cause a scene,” Lex interrupts, sighing as he puts his arm around her, "okay, no ambulance then. But you are going to the hospital, whether you like it or not, so I suggest you get in the car.” </p><p>Sam drops her phone back into her coat pocket and wraps her arm around Lena’s other side. She doesn’t bother putting up a fight as they help her down the steps towards Lex’s car. She knows the numbness spreading up her arm is a bad sign, worse than the agony of the break, and there’s no point in being more difficult than she’s already been.</p><p>It feels like all her neighbours have come out of their houses to watch her being escorted into her brother’s Porche with the amount of eyes on her. Lena looks up to meet her closest neighbours eye, the blonde who has always had dirt somewhere on her clothes and rosy cheeks whenever Lena had seen her. It’s the first time she’s seen the woman up close and she can’t help but notice the deep blueness of her eyes. She just wishes they weren’t so corrupted by concern as they took her in.</p><p>The mundanity of her neighbour with groceries under her arm and a baseball cap saying ‘<em>enjoy don’t destroy</em>’ on it with an embroidered tree beneath puts Lena more at ease than being strapped into the back seat of Lex’s car and the promise of very strong painkillers once they reach the hospital.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There won't be anymore chapters quite so graphic(?) as this one.<br/>This was meant to be a fluff piece but this was sort of important to the plot so there ya go hope u liked it anyway</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. High Pain Tolerance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The aftermath of the crash and also introducing Maggie</p><p>Warning for Hospitals and PTSD symptoms</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lena must’ve finally given in to unconsciousness then because the next time she wakes up it’s to an annoying beeping sound making her head throb and someone talking quietly across the room. For a moment, Lena’s disorientated and tries to pull the source of the beeping noise off of where it’s clipped onto her finger whilst her eyes try to get used to the bright whiteness of the lights. The talking stops when a figure moves forwards, phone in hand, and stops her unclipping the heart-rate monitor. </p><p>“Stop that, lay still,” the woman, that Lena immediately recognises as her mother, says. </p><p>Lena grumbles in response, her face twisting up in childlike disgust at being left with her mother and she registers the tubes bringing oxygen to her nose on her face. “What time is it?” she slurs, all the medication she can feel being pumped into her making her tongue thick. </p><p>“Five thirty,” Lillian answers, “on a Thursday.”</p><p>That means she’s been here for two days. Lena blinks her eyes open for the final time now that they’re adjusted to the light. “Where’s Lexi?” she mumbles, looking about at the empty chairs in the room. </p><p>She knows Sam’s busy with her daughter and her job, but Lex has neither of those things, and since leaving prison she knows he’s got no one else to see. She would’ve thought he’d be here at least. He was the one who made her come to the hospital after all. </p><p>Lena doesn’t even bother considering Morgan. He didn’t like to see her when she took her makeup off before bed, she doubts he’d come to see her when she hasn’t brushed her hair in two days.</p><p>“Lex,” Lillian corrects, “he had to go home to get a fresh set of clothes for you. There’s been paparazzi outside since you arrived. Don’t worry though dear, I’ve fended off the press for you for now. You’d be surprised how many people want an interview with <em>you</em> about <em>this</em>.” </p><p>Ignoring her mother, she looks down at herself and sees the white plaster cast on her right arm settled on a pillow, the pale blue blankets pulled up over her chest hiding the hospital gown she knows she’s been dressed in, and the needle in her left hand attaching her to a bag of liquid medication. Lena realises that Lillian is still talking, something about her recklessness and how pale she looks beside the sheets. “Shhh,” Lena says quietly, taking advantage of her high pain meds and sleepiness to get back more rest and nestling further into her pillow. </p><p>“Lena, you’ve slept enough,” Lillian snaps when her daughter shuts her eyes again.</p><p>“No,” Lena’s reply is muffled by her sheets. </p><p>“The police need to talk to you about what happened Lena,” her mother warns. </p><p>“No more talking,” she says as she happily drifts off.  </p><p>-</p><p>The second time she wakes up Lex is there, and the curtains of her room have been closed. He’s sat playing some painting game on his phone beside her bed, a duffle bag at his feet and a half-empty punnet of grapes on his lap. </p><p>Lena shuffles in her bed to sit up and alert her brother that she’s awake, her arm aching as she jostles the pillow but it’s an ache like pressing on a bruise and not the agony of having someone repetitively drop a brick on it like it was before. Her headache has gone away considerably now too and her stomach growls at her to eat something. Lex must hear it because he chuckles and hands her the rest of the grapes. </p><p>“What happened?” Lena says, her voice croaky from trying to speak louder than a mumble. </p><p>“You downplayed your symptoms a lot,” Lex laughs, “that or you have a very high pain tolerance.”</p><p>“Lex,” she grumbles, not in the mood for his humour right now. </p><p>He laughs again and answers, “I’m not really sure. I know they put an <em>internal fixature</em> into your arm. I wasn’t here when you got out of surgery, you’ll have to talk to the doctor… or mother. I saw your x-rays though, a couple of impressive fractures in there darling."</p><p>He knocks on her cast and she bats him away. “Oh yeah, you have a mild concussion too. You had to get three stitches.” He taps his forehead. </p><p>Lena reaches up to her own forehead and feels the gauze stuck to it. That explains her headache at least. </p><p>“When can I leave?” she asks, already taking the blanket from her legs. </p><p>Lex laughs again. “You never change, you know that?” </p><p>“Mother said you bought me some clothes,” Lena opts to ignore him, “did you bring me some shoes too?”</p><p>“It’s all in here,” Lex chucks the bag on the bed beside her, “let me get the doctor, okay? He’ll want to talk to you.”</p><p>Lena nods and unzips the bag as he leaves, scoffing at what her brothers packed for her as she riffles through it. </p><p>It’s not from her home to say the least. He must have picked it out from what’s left of her wardrobe in the Luthor Manor, a wardrobe that can’t have been updated since she left home for college, because it’s entirely made up of designer dresses that Lillian picked out for her. “What the fuck,” she sighs. </p><p>She empties out the bag, looking for anything else she could wear other than the emerald-green dress. She finds her phone, her car keys, and a pair of heels. <em>He has got to be joking</em>. </p><p>Lena checks the time, it’s almost eight, and then calls Sam. </p><p>“Hello?” her friend answers the phone hesitantly. </p><p>“Sam, it’s Lena. I need a favour,” she says. </p><p>“You’re awake?! Why did no one tell me? How are you feeling? Did you like the flowers I sent you? The lady at the shop told me they were good for healing and-.”</p><p>“Sam,” Lena cuts off her rambling, “are you busy right now?” </p><p>“I was just about to run a bath for Ruby, why?” </p><p>“I need a few things from home. Just some clothes and my car.”</p><p>“Lena, if you’re thinking of running from the hospital-,” Sam begins. </p><p>“I’m not. It’s just that Lex bought me a dress and heels and I want anything but those things,” Lena complains. </p><p>“Promise me you won’t leave the hospital until you’re properly discharged then,” Sam says. </p><p>“You don’t trust my word? Wow. You wound me,” Lena jokes, adding a gasp for emphasis. </p><p>“Shut up and make the promise Luthor, you want me to get you your fluffy cat socks or not?” </p><p>“Okay, okay. I promise I won’t leave until I’m discharged.”</p><p>“Guess who’s going to see Aunty Lena,” Sam says enthusiastically to what Lena imagines to be a sleepy three-year-old, “you want to go and get your new t-rex to show her?”</p><p> “Is a allosaurus mom!” she hears Ruby correct her and then some heavy footsteps. </p><p>“When you see it, do not mention the missing leg okay?” Sam whispers into the phone and then speaks louder, “we’ll be there soon, sit tight.”</p><p>The call ends and Lena drops the phone back into the duffel bag when the doctor comes in, Lex following close behind, a sheepish look on his face when he notices she’s opened the bag. </p><p>“Miss Luthor how are you feeling?” the man greets. </p><p>“As good as possible under the circumstances,” Lena replies curtly. </p><p>She’s never been a fan of white coats and latex gloves, not since her father’s brief time in the hospital before he passed when she was barley a teenager. Hospitals are not happy places in her memories, and she wants to go home and shower the smell of antiseptic away. </p><p>The doctor chuckles and looks over the notes on the clipboard at the end of her bed.  “Well, Miss Luthor, you can leave whenever you’re ready, although I’d like to warn you of the crowds outside before you do,” he says. </p><p>“I’m sorry about any disruptions they might have caused. I’ll be out of your hair by tonight,” she promises. </p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, setting his clipboard down on a side table. </p><p>A nurse wheels in a metal tray with a bunch of boxes on it, a clear one she can see her coat inside of. </p><p>“I’d like to discuss your discharge with you, would you mind if I did it whilst Nurse Cooper applies a new cast?” the doctor asks, “your swelling should’ve gone down enough now for something more permanent.”</p><p>Lena shakes her head. “Which colour would you like?” the nurse asks, and Lena suspects it to be mocking as she opens a box of colours and offers them up to her condescendingly. </p><p>“Black,” she answers without even looking over the selection. </p><p>She can hear Lex’s snort behind her, and she smiles to herself. Not all people like the Luthor’s, especially not after Lex was sent to prison for embezzlement, tax evasion and practically funding a foreign civil war among other things. Lena can’t really blame anyone here for not liking her or her family, even if she does help fund the hospital in National City and all the research for the many experimental treatments they’re running. </p><p>As the nurse cuts the temporary cast away and resets a new one, the doctor hands her a folder full of prescriptions for pain-medications and anti-inflammatory drugs as well as leaflets on how to take care of her cast, looking after stiches and her x-ray photos, all the while explaining future appointments, physiotherapy and returning to work. Lena does her best to focus on what he’s saying, she knows her future self will be annoyed that she isn’t, but her brain still feels a little fuzzy and the TV behind him is playing the news.</p><p>She watches the screen that’s showing what looks like a phone-recorded video of a burning helicopter careening past the CatCo building and dipping behind the trees of the park and then another video plays, this one is much clearer though it’s zoomed in, of the crashed helicopter by the lake in the park, black smoke pummelling out of the cracked windshield and Lena inside with a knife in her hand and blood dripping down the side of her head. </p><p>She winces at the sight of herself, the footage making her feel sick. “Can that be turned off?” Lena sharply requests. </p><p>The doctor, nurse and Lex all turn towards the television to see what she’s talking about as another video starts, this one of Lena sat on the park’s grass as she registers the cut on her head for the first time. </p><p>“<em>Now</em>,” Lena snaps. </p><p>Lex rushes to reach for the remote and switches the screen off, leaving them all in a stunned silence at her outburst. Fortunately, Ruby and Sam walk through the door at that moment, taking the attention off her reddening cheeks.</p><p>“Lena,” Sam greets breathlessly, “you’re looking better already. How’re you feeling?”</p><p>Lena shrugs in response, immediately regretting it as the subtle ache in her arm spikes. She winces and Sam gives her a pitying look. </p><p>“Right well, I’m happy for you to make your way home whenever you’re ready Miss Luthor,” the doctor interrupts, heading for the door, “I hope to see you next week for your follow up.”</p><p>“Thank you, Doctor,” Lena says. </p><p>The man gives her a smile and then steps out of the room, the nurse with her tray following behind. </p><p>The tension in the room quickly dissipates then as Sam chucks Lena a stuffed draw-string bag and collapses onto the chair with Ruby on her lap. “What you asked for,” Sam offers as an explanation.</p><p>Lena thanks her and pulls the bag open, a happy smile gracing her face at the sight of loose jeans, an oversized sweater, and her chucks. She spots a pair of fluffy cat socks tucked in there too. Lex and Sam get into a conversation about who’ll drive Lena home and who’ll go and retrieve her car for her and other technicalities whilst she takes all the stuff out of the bag. </p><p>“Aunty Lena?” the little girl across the room timidly asks. </p><p>“Yes darling?” Lena replies, giving Ruby a warm smile. </p><p>“Mommy said you got a broke arm, and when my friend Lizzy got a broke arm and her cast was on, I drew a triceratops to make it better on it,” the girl says, a shy look on her face as the words fumble from her mouth. </p><p>Lena glances down at the dinosaur figurine, missing a leg although she doesn’t dwell on it, and a golden sharpie in Ruby’s hands, and she smiles in understanding. “Would you like to draw a dinosaur on my cast for me?” Lena suggests like it was her idea. </p><p>Ruby’s face lights up and she nods, wriggling free from her mother’s hold and walking over to the bed. The other two adults in the room catch on and Lex helps lift Ruby onto the hospital bed. </p><p>“Be careful sweetheart, don’t knock Lena’s arm,” Sam cautions and Ruby nods, scooting over on her knees to where Lena’s sat. </p><p>The injured woman draws back the sling she was given and smooths her hand over the fiberglass to find an area that’s firmly set. The hand and wrist area are pretty much dry, so she lets Ruby get to work with drawing out a pterodactyl to the best of her wobbly three-year old ability on the black cast. </p><p>-</p><p>Sam, Ruby and Lex eventually leave to pick her car up and soon after that Lillian arrives with Morgan in tow, a bunch of flowers in his hand. </p><p>Lena refrains from physically rolling her eyes at the sight of him as he sets them down on a side table instead of presenting them to her. Of course he arrives when she’s about to leave, where the paparazzi will get their photos of her leaving with him. </p><p>He takes one look at her outfit and scoffs, “your wearing jeans now? Really Lena?”</p><p>They’re her favourite pants. </p><p>“Where’s the clothes Lex bought you?” Lillian questions, a sharp frown on her face. </p><p>“I couldn’t fit my arm into the dress,” Lena lies, “so Sam lent me some of her clothes.”</p><p>“They’re Samantha’s? You can tell,” Morgan sneers. Him and Sam never got along, unsurprisingly. </p><p>Pulling the sweater over her head, essentially covering the sling, and hiding Ruby’s doodles beneath it, she collects up Lex’s duffle bag that now contains the clothes he bought for her and the blood-stained clothes she wore to the hospital. Morgan offers to carry it for her, but she ignores him and walks towards the door instead. </p><p>As soon as she steps out of her room, a woman in a leather jacket with three uniformed police officers behind her steps forward. “Miss Luthor, I’m detective Sawyer,” she introduces, “I have a few questions regarding the helicopter crash you were involved in two days ago. It should only take a minute.”</p><p>The detective is a short woman with bronze skin and dark hair, and despite being a few inches shorter than Lena she manages to exhume dominance over the situation. The youngest Luthor would like nothing more than to tell the Detective she’ll have to wait, but she has a feeling she won’t be left alone until she does as she’s asked. “What would you like to ask?” Lena replies. </p><p>She hears Morgan huff beside her. “Make it quick detective. Unlike some, I can’t afford to wait around,” he mocks. </p><p>“Would you mind if we go somewhere private?” Detective Sawyer suggests, an unbothered smile on her face.</p><p>“Not at all,” Lena replies, feeling Morgan’s glare burning into her side as they make their way back into her hospital room. </p><p>The detective goes through two pages of notes writing down the answers to her questions as well as possible suspects and other people Lena has pissed off recently. By the end, Lena’s exhausted and drained, wishing they could’ve found somewhere to sit rather than standing the whole way through. Detective Sawyer offers her police protection for until the criminal is bought in, but Lena tiredly laughs her off saying that if she agreed she’d likely be under police protection for the rest of her life. </p><p>The Luthor’s each have their own security detail that they use for big gala’s and most public events and Lena can easily transfer someone over to stay as a guard to accompany her whenever she’s not home for a while until things die down. She’s making a note in her phone already to call the company tomorrow. </p><p>When she leaves the room this time, she’s met with an angry looking Morgan Edge and Lillian, who’s on the phone. She catches “returning to work tomorrow,” and “a small fracture” from her mother’s conversation, as though they both hadn’t seen the same x-ray photos or heard when the doctor said there’d be a three month recovery period at least, and she decidedly tunes the older woman out as they head for the entrance. </p><p>Morgan doesn’t say anything on the ride down to the ground floor, but he taps the toe of his shoe, letting Lena know he’s unhappy. She’s almost thankful for her mother’s presence, chatting away on the phone the whole time, to defuse his anger slightly. </p><p>Just before the doors open, Lillian presses a pair of sunglasses into her hand and gives her a once over, her frown disapproving whilst she looks from head to toe. Lena puts the large sunglasses on, hiding the tiredness of her eyes and most of her face with them. </p><p>The doors ping open and in an instant she’s being covered by security, pushing the photographers and journalists back as they make their way towards Morgan’s town car. The chauffeur gives her a sympathetic look and opens the door for them to duck inside and shut out the camera flashes and shouted questions. Lena closes her eyes against the resurfacing headache building at her temples. </p><p>She’s tired and she needs a shower and maybe to hire her own driver and to collect some work from L-Corp and do a million other things. It’s at that moment that the gravity of the situation really weighs on her. </p><p>She’s been gone for <em>two whole days</em>. </p><p>Pulling her phone from her jean pocket, she quickly calls her L-Corp office. </p><p>“Jess?” she asks when the call picks up. </p><p>“Miss Luthor,” the secretary greets on the other end. </p><p>“Has anyone-,” Lena begins, but before she can get any further into her question, Jess interrupts. </p><p>“The board has initiated your crisis planning scheme, Miss Luthor. Lex Luthor has temporarily taken over your position in accordance to the policies outlined in the scheme, he’s alerted the board and most stakeholders about the change too. So… don’t worry about that until you’ve recovered,” Jess explains. </p><p>“Um, thank you,” Lena says softly, “but I was just wandering if anyone’s been feeding Felix?” </p><p>She knows that, with Lex home from prison, the company is in good hands without her. That thought is almost enough to shock her. A year ago, she doubts she’d be thinking the same thing. </p><p>Luckily for her, Jess doesn’t respond straight away, too busy face-palming knowing her, so she gets a moment to ponder on that. </p><p>“I have been Miss Luthor. I used the key you gave me… the- the one for emergencies.”</p><p>Lena lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you Jess,” she says. </p><p>“No problem Miss Luthor, you have a beautiful cat,” she compliments.</p><p>“Oh yes, he is-,” she cuts herself off to avoid going on a tangent in front of Morgan and Lillian, “very cute. I trust you have everything under control at L-Corp. I’ll be in tomorrow to smooth things over. See you then.”</p><p>“Tomorrow?” she hears Jess splutter, but she ends the phone call to tactfully skip any of Jess’ self-care advice. </p><p>Her mother, who’d been blatantly listening in on the conversation, says, “you aren’t going to ask her to feed that over-grown alley cat for the next week or so too? I hope you’re not planning on going over there every day to do it yourself.”</p><p>“Firstly, mother, he’s not over-grown, he’s a Maine Coon cat- it’s their breed’s main characteristic to be big. And secondly, no I am not planning on going to my home every day to do it myself because, wild as it may seem, I live there <em>all the time</em>,” Lena rages, fed up with her mother’s constant criticisms. </p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous Lena,” Lillian scoffs, “you can’t possibly take care of yourself in this state. Morgan has kindly offered to have you stay with him again so that you can recover with ease.”</p><p>Lena hates how her mother makes it sound like she was helpless without him. She glares at her whilst Morgan smugly grins opposite her. God, <em>she hates him</em>. </p><p>“Don’t look at me like that young lady,” Lillian scolds, “you spent three months away from home and look at you now. Couldn’t even hold a pen if you tried.”</p><p>Somehow, she knows there’s no point in explaining that escaping her loveless relationship with Morgan and the recent attempt on her life have no correlation, so she just sighs and slumps back further into her chair, knowing her poor posture is already pissing her mother off enough. To make her mood worse, Morgan switches seats and slings his arm over her shoulder, leaving it there for the rest of the journey. </p><p>-</p><p>Lena manages two weeks. Two weeks of Morgan insisting she stick to her diet since she stopped following it once she left. Two weeks of Morgan ‘helping’ her wash her hair and do up the clasps on her heels. Two weeks of him making her coffee wrong, like they hadn’t been living together for three years already. It’s literally a black coffee, and yet he somehow always manages to pour milk into it. She manages two weeks of mind-numbing boredom and loneliness, because, despite not getting any alone time, she’s never felt so alone. </p><p>She went into work the day after she arrived home from the hospital to collect some work, all of her employees staring as she strode towards her office. Nothing had made her feel as stupid as walking into a building with her last name on it, dressed in old slacks, a baggy blazer and chucks, their laces tucked into her socks because she couldn’t do them up without using her right hand. But it felt important that she showed her face, even if the media had pinned all the blame of the accident on her, giving L-Corp a lot of bad press, and her employees probably hated her for leaving Lex in charge. </p><p>Despite it being a good idea on the drive over, as soon as she walked into her office, she’d never regretted a decision more. The back of the office is lined with floor to ceiling windows that look out across the skyline of National City. If she were to go to her desk, she could see all the way down to the road bellow. Her heart plummets right into her stomach and she feels physically sick. </p><p>A fear of heights. That’s <em>inconvenient</em>. </p><p>Lena backs out into the hallway until her back hits the wall, taking a deep breath. Fortunately, her office is at the end of the corridor and practically tucked away between Jess’ desk and a room full of locked filing cabinets, so none of her co-workers get to see her panic. Well, none except Jess who is no doubt staring at her right now. </p><p>“Is everything okay Miss Luthor?” her secretary asks, standing up. </p><p>“Hey Jess,” Lena replies, “would you mind closing the blinds in my office for me?” </p><p>“Your blinds?” Jess questions, confusion clear in her voice.  </p><p>“Yes,” Lena says impatiently, “please.”</p><p>“Um. Okay,” she nods and disappears into the office. </p><p>She reappears a moment later, the blinds now closed, with a dawning expression of understanding that Lena's becoming accustomed to on her face. “All clear,” she says. </p><p>“Thank you Jess,” Lena nods and ducks back inside, still feeling uneasy at being so high up, but the panic has settled so she quickly grabs a few folders from her desk, as well as her laptop and some USB’s and then dashes back out into the hallway where she finds Sam stood giving her a very pointed look. </p><p>She sends a look of betrayal towards her secretary before being marched into the garage like she doesn’t own the building, Sam saying something about "bed-rest" and "recuperation" on the way.</p><p>-</p><p>Since that day, she hasn’t been able to return to work due to Sam’s insistence and Jess always telling on her when she hides in the labs of the L-Corp basement. It’s not like she can even get any of her side-projects done either because, without her right hand, she can’t draw prototype sketches or solder wires to circuit boards accurately or do basically anything to distract herself from the nightmares she’s been getting. Reading books gives her headaches and watching T.V always ends up with a news reporter explaining how the investigation into her assassination attempt has hit a dead-end again and she feels sick watching it. She can’t even <em>drink</em> because it might fuck with her medications. </p><p>All in all, she’s feeling very sorry for herself by the end of the second week and Morgan’s presence is making it a million times worse. He’s grouchy because he has a girl eating all the food in his fridge and forcing him to keep all the curtains in the thirty-sixth floor apartment closed without getting laid for putting up with it. </p><p>By the end of the second week spent cooped up in Morgan’s apartment, with the occasional facetime from Sam and always business-related calls from Lex, she decides she has to leave. For the sake of her sanity. </p><p>So, she packs all her things and calls one of her mother’s drivers, asking them to come and pick her up. When she steps out into the under-ground garage and finds Lillian waiting for her with Lena’s own car parked behind her and not some polite man in a top hat stood in front of a Rolls Royce, she pinches the bridge of her nose.  </p><p>One of the worst things to come out of breaking her arm is the reappearance of her mother in her life. Previously, she <em>might</em> have seen her mother twice a year: once at Christmas and the other on Thanksgiving, and that’s only if her mother hadn’t gone away to somewhere warm. She was shocked when she learnt that other children got presents on their birthdays instead of a lecture about being grateful for what you have and a threat to be sent back to an Irish orphanage if she wasn’t- Lena supposes Lex must have been ‘too old’ for the excitement surrounding birthdays when she was adopted, and her parentage made it difficult for Lillian to celebrate her birth.</p><p>“Mother? I don’t recall requesting you as a driver,” Lena greets. </p><p>“Don’t be a snob Lena, it’s not becoming,” Lillian scolds, “am I not allowed see where my daughter lives?” </p><p>Ah. So that's why she's here. </p><p>“I don’t think so,” Lena shrugs, knowing that her mother doesn’t like the gesture (this time it doesn’t hurt to do too). </p><p>“Well, nobody else is coming to get you so if you want to leave whilst Morgan is still at work, I suggest you get in the car,” she opens the passenger side door knowing she’s won. </p><p>Lena knows when to pick her battles, and gets in. </p><p>-</p><p>On the drive over, Lillian’s frown only get’s more and more severe as the houses get cheaper and cheaper. It makes Lena laugh, even if she is nervous for her mother’s approval. Lena knows she won’t get it; she knew it when she bought the house. Still though, she’s <em>nervous</em>. </p><p>The neighbour, the blonde one, is stood outside on her drive again when they pull up. Lillian notably doesn’t park fully on the drive when they do. The older woman gets out and slams the door shut as Lena gathers some courage to step back out onto the street where she embarrassed herself two weeks prior. As she works up some of her Luthor poise, the woman digging up her front garden catches her eye. Mostly because she’s side-eyeing Lillian angrily. </p><p>In the privacy of her car with it’s black-out windows, she has the chance to see who her new neighbour is properly. Sure, she’s seen glimpses of the woman every now and then. There was that one time she was on a phone call with Lillian and she spotted the woman bathing in golden sunlight, sweat on her brow and her sleeves pulled up over her shoulders to reveal some very defined biceps. Lena’s body had a very un-Lena-like reaction that she hasn’t had the time to delve too much into yet. But since then she hasn’t seen the woman for more than a second. </p><p>Not that she’s been wanting to or anything. Obviously not.  </p><p>Right now, the woman is wearing a t-shirt with a few dirty handprints on the hem and a scientific analysis of rosemary printed on it. She has a daisy tucked behind her ear and cuffed jeans. The sight makes Lena uncomfortably warm and she leaves the car quickly after that. </p><p>Lillian immediately starts to critique the place and she’s submerged back into her boarding school days when Lillian would pick her up for the holidays and scold her in front of all her peers for scuffing up her shoes. </p><p>“Lena, I don’t see why you don’t just buy a house in the city. What happened to the nice penthouse you looked at? The one with the marble floors. You wouldn’t have to commute so far everyday if you lived there,” Lillian questions. </p><p>Her mother’s talking about the house with two extra bedrooms for future children, the one her mother and Morgan had taken her around as they talked about marriage together like it wasn’t Lena’s decision too. </p><p>“Do you mean the house you made me and Morgan look at? The one I said I didn’t like?” Lena remarks. </p><p>She knew that if they moved in there, there’d be no reason for them to not get married. She’s had to call Jess enough times for her secretary to buy her the morning-after pill after some of Morgan’s efforts to lock her into marrying him. So, if they moved in there, she couldn’t use the excuse of no space for a child to keep him off her, and Lillian would see it the same way no doubt. </p><p>“There are plenty of pleasant penthouses in the city, ones with doormen, decent parking and nearby bars,” Lillian argues. </p><p>“Mother. We are still <em>in the city</em> here. There are bars and,” Lena gestured towards her paved drive, the one her mother chose not to park on, “I don’t need decent parking.”</p><p>Lillian scoffs, “those hippie brothels don’t count as bars, Lena. They’re hardly good for your reputation. A lady with your social standing shouldn’t be seen in such places if you want to maintain a good status.” </p><p>There goes Lena’s hopes of blending in. </p><p>“I’m sorry, we need to get back in the car, I think you just dropped us off in the nineteen hundreds by mistake,” Lena deadpans and she hears her neighbour <em>laugh</em>. </p><p>Most people she knows would have shaken their head at her or kept quiet. And for some reason, this woman who Lena doesn’t even know who’s just had her entire neighbourhood made fun of, laughed at her joke. The look of complete disbelief on her mother's face makes her smile even wider.</p><p>And as they enter her house, Lillian still isn’t over it, leaving Lena to hug Felix who meows at her entrance, and spares her from her mothers grilling over why her coffee table is from IKEA and not the expensive French hand-made selection she’d recommended.  </p><p>The rest of the time her mother spends in her house is with her telling Lena about all the things she’s been doing whilst she’s been away, like thanking people for the get-well-soon gifts they’ve sent and making sure Lex is settling in okay. All the while, Lena sets up some tech to help her get to work quickly. </p><p>She went back to her office once more after that first time since the accident. The second time was during the evening, when all her top floor employees had gone home. Lena spent an hour in the doorway, unable to step over the threshold. But it was better than the first time, the darkness of night made the height seem less important and it wasn’t as big of a reminder: her accident didn’t happen at night, so it didn’t give way to any flash backs to be stood there looking out at the dark night sky and bright city lights. </p><p>Still, Lena mentioned it to her therapist, her inability to be high up- not the nightmares she and Morgan were pretending she wasn’t having. And her therapist ensured that having fears after a traumatic event were only natural, but she should practice ‘watchful waiting’ to see if it gets any worse- whatever that means. </p><p>For now though, it means she can’t go into her office, and therefore she can’t host any meetings or step back fully into her position of CEO. </p><p>Luckily for her, the frustration that seeps into her bones from feeling so useless is easily solved with a self-medicated spliff.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you liked it<br/>Now that we're all caught up it's back to Kara's POV next chapter</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. It's a plan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kara goes over to Lena's to deliver her brownies.</p><p>Kara's POV again</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As promised, Kara drops the brownies round the next day. </p><p>She spends all day making them, buying all her ingredients that morning and then doing two batches when some of the firsts ones end up <em>slightly</em> charcoal like. She goes as far as rooting through the back of her cupboard for her best plate (the yellow and white one without any chips in it) and re-positioning each one of them at least three times until they look perfect. </p><p>And just as she’s about to leave to take them next-door, she catches sight of herself in the mirror by her coat rack. There’s flour all over her jeans, dried batter covering her <em>dark blue</em> t-shirt, and a smudge of chocolate on her cheek. So, she quickly gets changed into something more suitable for seeing your mysterious and very beautiful super-crush/next-door neighbour- the outfit she end up going with consisting of a casual striped button up with matching navy jeans. She undoes a few of the top buttons and rolls up the sleeves to make it seem less… coordinated. </p><p>Hastily, Kara picks up the (thankfully still warm) brownies and walks next-door, chanting <em>act normal, act normal, act normal</em> in her head as she goes to knock on the door. It’s just Lena, she tells herself. But that’s sort of the reason behind her panicking isn’t it? It’s <em>Lena</em>. </p><p>The person who opens the door though is decidedly <em>not</em> Lena. </p><p>A short, blonde woman dressed in what looks to be combat gear and wearing an earpiece is who opens the door, her eyes narrowed, and head tilted questioningly. </p><p>“And you are…?” the mildly threatening woman asks. </p><p>Kara freaks immediately. She feels stupid stood there in the drizzle, her brownies getting wet and this woman looking down on her from the top of the steps. </p><p>“Uhh, Kara. I… I live next door,” she eventually sputters out. </p><p>“Nice to meet you Uh Kara Who Lives Next-Door,” the woman says, not sounding at all like she means it, “is there a reason why you’re here?” </p><p>Kara passes her plate forward for the woman to take, looking down at her shoes as she replies, “I made these for Lena, they’re – um – just some brownies. So,” Kara continues, backing down the drive, “it’d be nice if you could pass them on for me?” </p><p>The woman remains impassive as she looks down at the plate and then turns to the sound of someone approaching. </p><p>“Sara?” Lena’s voice calls out from inside, “is someone there?” </p><p>Lena rounds the corner into the hall and her face lights up as soon as she spots Kara. And Kara herself feels lighter at the sight of her neighbour too. </p><p>“Kara,” she greets happily, “what’re you doing here?” </p><p>“Um-,” Kara starts, slightly whiplashed from the two conversations.</p><p>“She came to give you these,” Sara interrupts, holding out the plate of brownies. </p><p>Kara blushes as Lena chuckles. “Right of course. The brownies,” she nods her head, taking the plate from Sara with her good hand, “thank you Kara.”</p><p>“No problem,” Kara says smiling and gladly ignoring Sara’s eye-roll, “it’s an easy recipe.”</p><p>“Would you like to come in?” Lena offers uncertainly, “I don’t think I can get through all these on my own.”</p><p>Kara glances at Sara who’s still giving her a tense look, arms folded in front of her and shoulders broadened. Even with Kara’s muscles from chopping down trees and pulling up extra tricky roots, she wouldn’t want to anger the woman in front of her.  </p><p>“No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she responds, facing Lena again, “maybe another time though.”</p><p>“Sara’s was just leaving so you wouldn’t be intruding,” Lena says, sending an angry side-glance towards the shorter blonde. </p><p>The way Sara clenches her jaw and widens her eyes at Lena tells Kara that maybe that isn’t the truth. But Sara does as she’s told and picks up her heavy-looking bag from beside the door. She walks down the steps, saying a quick goodbye to Lena and eyeing Kara the whole way down the drive. </p><p>Kara gulps and steps aside for her to pass on her walk to where her van is parked across the street. </p><p>Lena shakes her head with a sigh, “sorry about Sara. Her job requires her to be suspicious of everyone so it’s not something you can really fault her for. Just don’t take it too personally.”</p><p>“That’s okay, she sort of reminds me of my sister. What kind of job is it that ‘requires’ her to be like that?” Kara asks, turning back towards the steps where Lena’s stood. </p><p>“She’s- um- she’s ex-military. Special forces. She’s a private security contractor now though,” Lena explains. </p><p>“Oh wow,” Kara says, taking one last look at Sara before she speeds off. </p><p>She wants to ask what Lena’s need for a security detail is, one of that level of capability no less, but they hardly know each other, and she doesn’t want to overstep. Plus, Lena looks nervous about telling her all this already. “Well, you can let her know I’m not a threat. My brownies aren’t poisoned or anything,” she responds instead, smiling. </p><p>“That’s exactly what someone who poisoned the brownies would say.”</p><p>“…Good point,” Kara says and looks off to the side as she thinks about it. </p><p>Lena laughs and opens her door wider. “Anyway,” she swiftly changes the subject, “my offer still stands if you want to come in and help me get through these.”</p><p>Kara’s smile grows wider and she nods, walking up the steps and into her house. “Fair warning, I’m not known to be patient when it comes to sugary foods.”</p><p>Lena laughs, a small, shy sound (one that Kara finds sweet as honey), and waves the blonde inside. </p><p>She’s not sure what she expected Lena’s house to be like; lots of meaningless modern art, sleek white counters, excessively high-tech light fixtures, among other things. But what she finds instead makes Kara’s crush that much more secure. </p><p>The hallway is short, and within seconds of entering her neighbour’s house, Kara finds herself stood in her living room. A large living room with light wooden floorboards, a wall covered in white shelves- each one filled to the brim with all kinds of books, a grey sofa that has a series of picture frames above it- not one framing an actual photograph though, rather nerdy posters and strange art pieces- as well as a <em>real freaking sword</em>, and a cube storage unit housing many record albums with a record player on top. </p><p>“Wait a sec- <em>holy crap</em>, Lena!” Kara’s eyes widen at her discovery.</p><p>Lena rushes in from whatever’s beyond this room, Kara assumes it’s the hallway to the kitchen if the layouts of their houses are the same, no longer carrying the plate of brownies, a look of concern clouding her features. “What’s wrong?” she asks. </p><p>Kara splutters waving her hands around like some kind of lunatic, “is- is this a <em>signed</em> album cover o-of Nevermind?? As in <em>Nevermind, Nirvana’s 1991 album?!</em>”</p><p>Lena chuckles, “oh um, yeah. It was my fathers. Cool huh?”</p><p>“C-cool? Lena this is so-,” Kara reaches out to run her finger along the edge of the album, “this is amazing.”</p><p>“Do you want to play it?” Lena suggests. </p><p>Kara whips her head up at Lena, as though the mere thought of it is ludicrous. “<em>Play it??</em>”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what it’s for,” Lena chuckles again. </p><p>She picks up the album cover from where it sits beside the record player and slides the black, glossy vinyl out. “You want to do the honours?” Lena holds it out for Kara, a smile on her face. </p><p>Kara takes it reverently and puts it on the record player, carefully dropping the stylus on top. ‘<em>Smells like teen spirit</em>’ immediately starts playing and Kara’s grin grows impossibly wider. This song takes her right back to her college days of sitting around on library chairs for hours and hours with her headphones on, nothing but the smell of books and old leather surrounding her as Kurt Cobain’s singing steered her through countless essays and multiple textbooks. </p><p>The two-aesthetics of grunge and academia clash so much it makes her wonder how she ever forgot how the two make her feel. </p><p>She glances over to where Lena’s stood to see a similarly reminiscent look on her face. </p><p>“Your father has a good taste in music,” Kara states.</p><p>“Had,” Lena corrects, “he passed away when I was a teenager. But thank you, I think he’d be happy to hear that.”</p><p>“Oh- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-,” Kara stutters.</p><p>Lena just chuckles. “It’s alright Kara. It was a while ago now,” she assures.</p><p>“Well, still. As someone who lost both parents at a young age, I understand a little about what it’s like, and I’m sorry it happened,” Kara says, as genuine as she is sincere. </p><p>“You did?” Lena asks, somewhat shyly, “loose your parents I mean.”</p><p>Kara nods, “when I was thirteen. Like you said, that was a while ago now.”</p><p>“I guess we have another thing in common besides music taste then,” Lena laughs quietly as ‘<em>Come As You Are</em>’ starts playing. </p><p>Kara laughs in response and turns back to admire the album cover once again. </p><p>-</p><p>It’s a while before they get around to eating the brownies because Kara insists they listen to both sides of the record (not that Lena was at all opposed to doing so), and then she spots an R.E.M album that they also end up listening to both the sides of. </p><p>When they do finally make it into the kitchen, it’s getting dark outside and the brownies have gone cold. Lena suggests having dinner together and eating the brownies for desert, and of course Kara agrees in the name of food and spending more time with her increasingly enthralling neighbour.</p><p>She does all the tougher work to spare Lena’s good arm, which mostly consists of chopping up vegetables, whilst Lena does all the frying and actual putting things in the oven. Kara’s never been talented at cooking- even though she likes to bake- so having something other than burnt pasta and takeout’s is a welcome change. </p><p>It doesn’t take long for them to settle into their respective jobs. It’s almost as though they’ve done this a million times before. Kara can’t help imagining what that’d be like: coming home from a cold winters day to a warm meal already prepped for her or Lena coming home from her long hours to find the table already set and a straightforward dinner on the table- Kara would learn to cook properly if Lena was the one eating it. </p><p>And not even in a romantic way really, she just supposes that it’d be nice to help out someone as seemingly busy as Lena.</p><p>They move around each other naturally, Lena giving out instructions when she needs to and Kara following them exactly, or Kara asking where things are kept and Lena directing her easily, or Lena laughing as Kara tries and fails to get pepper seeds off the pepper she’s supposed to be chopping up and then from off of herself because <em>why are they so goddamn sticky?</em></p><p>Lena’s laughter only intensifies when Kara opens the fridge door- one covered in tourist magnets- for the first time and finds it to largely contain… <em>greens</em>. Just lots and lots of <em>greens</em>. Kara’s face has never been as screwed up in disgust as it was in that moment. It was haunting to see that many healthy things in one place. Even Alex and Maggie’s fridge doesn’t have <em>that</em> much green in it, and all the green they do have is balanced out by the takeout boxes and candy they also have. Lena doesn’t even own a bar of chocolate to balance out that much healthiness. </p><p>Kara will have to solve that with as many brownies as she can afford to make. </p><p>Once all the food is out of the oven and their plates are ready, they sit opposite each other at Lena’s long kitchen table. Felix finds his way to the table too and perches on one of the empty chairs as they tuck in, meowing every so often to remind Lena he’s hungry.  </p><p>“This is so good Lena,” Kara compliments, “probably the best meal I’ve had in… well, a long time.”</p><p>Lena cracks a small smile, “thank you. I’m glad you like it, it’s my own recipe.”</p><p>The blonde eagerly nods her head, “Your own recipe! That's amazing, this is amazing," Lena laughs as Kara takes another large mouthful and says a muffles, "so you know how to cook?”</p><p>Lena swallows her mouthful before answering. “My mother made me take classes before I went to college so I wouldn’t poison myself,” she says, “…or at least that’s why she told me she wanted me to take them, I think she secretly wanted me to eat healthily.”</p><p>“Your mother? Is that the lady from the other day?” Kara asks. </p><p>She can picture that stern looking woman telling a younger Lena not to do something stupid like get salmonella or burn the kitchen down instead of revealing she might actually care for her.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s the one. I’d like to be able to say she’s not usually like that, but she is,” Lena laughs and bites into a piece of pepper, “erm- actually. That’s something I’d like to apologise to you about. What my mother said about the neighbourhood wasn’t-,” she clears her throat, “she thinks anywhere that’s not upscale or high-end is… not worth her time so I’m sorry she said that about this area, and, I guess, I also wanted you to know that I happen to like the area very much and that I don’t agree with her on any of… what she said.”</p><p>“I should hope you like the area considering you live here,” Kara jokes but her face quickly turns serious, “but Lena, you know, you don’t have to apologise on behalf of your mom. They were her words and I doubt she’d apologise for saying them, I don’t see any reason why you should have to. Besides, that was weeks ago.”</p><p>“I know, I know,” Lena sighs as though she’s been told this many of times, keeping her eyes focused on where she’s poking at her food with her fork, “it was just bothering me and I just- I needed you to know I’m sorry about it.”</p><p>“Well, consider yourself forgiven,” Kara grins at her across the table. </p><p>“You mean it?” Lena asks quietly. </p><p>“Of course. How could I not forgive someone who makes such a perfect stir-fry?” Kara says, shovelling another forkful into her mouth and making Lena laugh again. </p><p>-</p><p>Later on, they move into the living room to eat the (freshly warmed up) brownies. Felix follows, after he’s finished eating his own dinner, and kneads at Lena’s thigh for a while before he curls up on her lap purring. She doesn’t have a television of any kind (the revelation that Lena’s never seen Brooklyn Nine-Nine giving way to some very promising future plans), so Lena puts on a new record, one from some small-town indie band Kara’s never heard of, as background noise to their conversations. </p><p>Lena’s first bite into a brownie produces a groan verging on pornographic and it sends a pang of arousal straight to Kara’s centre. She almost chokes on her mouthful of brownie at the sound. </p><p>“Wow Kara. These are phenomenal,” she says with a hand over her mouth, “you’ll have to show me how to make them sometime.”</p><p>Kara’s heart jumps at the prospect of another evening like this, still barley recovered from hearing Lena's groan a second ago. Just her, Lena, and food (and maybe Felix but preferably not).  “Just let me know when you’re free and we can do it then,” Kara offers. </p><p>“I’m free all the time these days,” Lena mumbles somewhat bitterly. </p><p>“So tomorrow then?” Kara grins, wide and charming.</p><p>“Tomorrow??” Lena splutters, “that’s… soon.”</p><p>“It… doesn’t have to be tomorrow if- if you’re busy. I just thought that because of-,” Kara quickly becomes embarrassed about her forwardness, but Lena interrupts. </p><p>“No, no Kara,” she says, chuckling at herself, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just surprised you’d want to see my again so soon, I guess. I’m more than free tomorrow.”</p><p>“Oh. Right,” Kara breathes out, smiling again, “well, we could do it at mine? It would make sense to since I already have all the ingredients.”</p><p>Lena laughs, picking up another brownie, “okay. What time should I come?” </p><p>“Any time after three,” Kara answers cheerfully.</p><p>“It’s a plan,” Lena says and scratches under Felix’s chin. </p><p>“It’s a plan,” Kara repeats. </p><p>-</p><p>Kara doesn’t end up leaving until it’s almost midnight. She’s shocked when she notices the time, it feels like she’s hardly been here for long at all. But she does suppose time flies when you’re having fun. They’ve been talking all night, about anything and everything. Kara’s learnt that Felix was one of Lena’s dearest friends cats, and when he passed away, she adopted him. She learns that the sword on the wall is a family heirloom from Ireland that an unknown family member sent her two years ago. She learns that Lena’s record collection is made up of mostly her father’s favourites, and they shared a similar music taste so when he also passed, she took them all. And she learns that Lena works in tech but Kara doesn’t get much more than that on her job. </p><p>Kara does her fair share of talking too, revealing that she’s always been more of a dog person and Lena says she could tell that from a mile away, and that Kara's house and a small fortune was what her rich biological family left her after her parents died- not a cool sword or a <em>signed</em> Nirvana album cover. Lena tells her that she can use the sword and listen to the album whenever she likes.  </p><p>When she points out the time to the brunette, her neighbour is equally as shocked which is reassuring- she doesn’t want to overstay her welcome. </p><p>“I’d better get going,” Kara says, regretfully standing up and dusting the crumbs off her trousers. </p><p>Lena’s smile visibly falters at that, but she gets up too. “Oh, erm, yeah. Of course. Let me just get your plate,” she says, heading towards the kitchen. </p><p>She quickly comes back, holding out the yellow and white plate that’s clearly been washed. “Thank you for bringing those over, they were exactly what I needed,” Lena smiles. </p><p>“Well I’m just glad you liked them,” Kara replies, tucking the plate under her arm. </p><p>She’s lead to the front door where Lena shows her out, her arms wrapped around herself to shield herself from the cold. Kara pulls the shirt sleeves over her hands in her own attempt to not freeze. <em>How is it so cold? It’s supposed to be May.</em> </p><p>“I wish I could stay all night, but I have work in the morning and I can’t be caught sleeping on the job,” she says, and Lena visibly relaxes with a chuckle at her stupid joke.</p><p>“Maybe another time then,” she says, her voice deeper than Kara’s ever heard it before and full of promise. </p><p>Kara’s cheeks redden at the images that voice brings to mind, and she ends up falling down a step, only just catching herself before embarrassing herself further by landing on her ass. “Yeah, a-another time,” she says, gulping. </p><p>Lena sends her a coy smile and a wave as they each step into their own houses. Kara takes a deep breath to calm her racing heart before heading for a long <em>cold</em> shower. </p><p>-</p><p>The next morning, Kara gets up at six to go on her run, and when she gets back she’s dashing about her house to tidy it up as much as possible like a mad woman. It’s not that Kara has a particularly messy house, not at all, it’s just not… Lena standard. Granted, Lena only recently moved in so obviously it’s not as <em>lived-in</em> as Kara’s is, but still. Kara wants Lena to like her home, and if that involves mopping the mud from around the front door and finally washing up that difficult oven tray then so be it. </p><p>By the time she sets off for work on her bike, leaving her car behind, the house is practically flawless. It’s definitely much cleaner than it’s been in a while and she sort of wishes she could’ve invited Alex over quickly just to prove she is capable of doing chores. Alas, there are bushes that need to be pruned and weeds that need to be pulled in Mr J’onzz’s garden, and Kara Danvers was the gardener hired to do it.</p><p>-</p><p>Four hours later, her hands are dirty, and she’s soaked to the bone from the last of the rain after the heatwave despite wearing waterproof overalls, there’s a parcel full of ingredients strapped to the bike’s pannier rack and heavy tools in a trailer attached to the back. All in all, she could so with a ten-hour nap and a bath so hot her skin is red when she gets out. </p><p>Mr J’onzz let her off early, out of pity most likely, so she’s lucky to escape the rain sooner than she expected. Mr J’onzz was always a man for quality over quantity, and after seeing Kara lift her hood up for the millionth time so she could see, he told her to go home and get dry. </p><p>So that’s what she’s doing when she hops off her bike outside of her house: going home to get dry, have that ten-hour nap and also a boiling hot bath. </p><p>But then a furious-looking, bullish man storms down the front steps of Lena’s house so violently that Kara’s surprised they don’t break beneath his feet and she sees Lena pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh from where the brunette is stood against her doorframe. He sends one last fuming glare her way, looking as though he might say something for a moment before slamming the door of his Rolls-Royce and speeding away. </p><p>Kara wants to go over and sooth away the tense crease between Lena’s eyebrows and wipe the frustration away. Who the hell was that guy? Whoever he is Kara’s just decided she does <em>not</em> like him. </p><p>“You okay?” she calls up the drive from where she’s stood on the pavement. </p><p>That’s the first time Lena seems to notice she’s there because she jumps and whips her head around. “Sorry?” she replies. </p><p>“I was just wandering if you’re okay,” Kara repeats herself louder. </p><p>“Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine thank you. Sorry about the… about that,” Lena waves her arms vaguely in the direction the man just left in.</p><p>Kara pulls down her floppy hood and rings out her hair to stop it dripping down her back. “Lena,” she says warningly, “you don’t have to apologise for other people, remember?” </p><p>“Kara??” Lena blurts, laughing slightly, “sorry, I didn’t see it was you. It must have been that huge hood.”</p><p>Kara laughs too, “it is quite droopy, especially when it’s wet.”</p><p>They both share a long look, as though Lena’s asking ‘do you know how that sounds’ and Kara going red as it sinks in. </p><p>And then Lena’s laughing, real and loud, shoulders shaking, and eyes scrunched up, and Kara can’t help but get sucked into laughing just as much. They probably look ridiculous, laughing in the rain at a sex joke of all things. But Kara can’t find it in herself to care. </p><p>The rain promptly starts pouring down twice as hard and Kara pulls her hood up again, which causes Lena to start laughing harder as it falls down across her face. </p><p>“You still coming over in a bit?” Kara asks once they’ve caught their breaths. </p><p>“Yeah,” Lena replies softly, “is there anything you want me to bring?”</p><p>“No, I’ve got everything we’ll need,” she says, motioning towards the parcel on her bike. </p><p>“Alright then,” Lena unfolds her arms from where they’re hugging her torso and steps back further into her house, “see you after three.”</p><p>“I look forward to it,” Kara says, a grin on her face as she guides her bike up the drive.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for all the comments and kudos :)<br/>I'm thinking of making this fic not so slow burn if that's okay?<br/>Also sorry this chapter was kind of short-plz stick with me (next chapter will be later next month because I'm not going to be able to get wifi for a while after uploading this)</p><p>And I forgot to mention last time I uploaded that I got twitter :D I still have no idea how it works, but I'm learning<br/>Follow me if you'd like @imreading3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Flowery tie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warning for manipulation </p><p>Lena's POV</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lena must have checked her watch a million times in the last hour. It feels like three o’clock will never come. She is currently sat on her couch, shoes already on (their laces tucked into her socks), wine bottle by the door, Kara’s plate sat beside her on the couch, and Felix lounging in his cat perch glaring at her as he waits for her to give him a snack before she goes. </p><p>It’s ridiculous really, how eager she is to see the blonde. They’ve only been apart for a day- that’s not including the conversation they had earlier- and she already misses her company. Lena doesn’t question why she’s already so attached to this woman. They barley know each other and yet Lena trusts her more than she does most people in her life. </p><p>Kara makes it so easy to trust her, it’d be impossible not to. </p><p>Now that Lena thinks about it, Kara makes everything easy: talking, listening, cooking, laughing, trusting. </p><p>Anyway, that’s where she’s been for the last twenty minutes: sat on her couch, nursing a strong coffee whilst hoping her headache goes away with thoughts of Kara. </p><p>She can thank Morgan for her headache. His impromptu morning visit caught her off guard on a day that she was finally looking forward to.</p><p>To begin with, Lena had a phone call from Lex. He insisted on reading her the gossip column in the morning paper that he knows Lena doesn’t pay attention to. The news outlets have picked up on Lena and Morgan’s ‘split’ as they’re calling it, saying that Lena hasn’t been sighted since she left his building with her mother. How they know she left at all; Lena has no idea. Her car has black-out windows for a reason. </p><p>After half an hour of Lex essentially telling her to stop embarrassing Morgan and him asking for advice or permission for certain meetings and projects, Lena ended the call. </p><p>Then, she managed to drop her second plate this week when she tried to carry too many things at once in her good hand and it all smashed across her kitchen floor. </p><p>She’d only just finished tidying that up when she got a knock on the door. </p><p>Lena had supposed it would be Kara- the blonde’s the only person she was expecting to see today- so she rushed over to the front door without a second thought for what she looked like. </p><p>As soon as she saw that dull grey suit, she knew for a fact that it was Edge and not Kara. The blonde has broad shoulders for sure, but she’s lean where Morgan is bulk, she’s soft where he’s rough. </p><p>It was too late to close the door by then. </p><p>“And here I was, hoping jeans were a onetime occurrence in your wardrobe,” he had said, his voice flat and a scowl on his face. </p><p>“Morgan,” she’d greeted him, unsure, “what’re you doing here?” </p><p>“We need to talk,” he offered as an explanation and pushed past her, not being careful of her injuries as he walked into her house. </p><p>The last time he was inside, it was mostly just unopened boxes and random bits of furniture. Now it’s actually her home. It’s not new and nothing is untouched. It’s probably the most <em>her</em> a place she’s lived in has ever been. It’s so <em>her</em> it makes her feel vulnerable to let anyone see it. </p><p>And he stood right in the middle of it, his lips tight with disgust.</p><p>Before she let him comment on anything, she’d said, “what do you want to talk about?”</p><p>“You coming home,” he put his hands in his pockets, “it’s been long enough now. I’ve given you space to recover from the crash and there’s been more than enough time for you to… to figure out this identity crisis you seem to be going through.”</p><p>He waved his arms vaguely at the living room walls where her favourite posters are framed. </p><p>Lena would’ve laughed at his exasperation had he not brought up the most traumatic experience she’s been through and had been trying her best to not think about, <em>and</em> managed to make her buying her own house and decorating it with things she likes sound like a silly teenage phase.</p><p>The memory of Kara telling her she liked her kitchen unhelpfully popped into her head. </p><p>“<em>This</em> is my home, Morgan,” Lena said plainly and gestured to the walls too. </p><p>He scoffed and said condescendingly, “Lena. You can’t live here. It’s not- it’s not safe.”</p><p>“It’s perfectly safe. I had Sara install some of the highest quality security measures on the market yesterday.”</p><p>“Well, it’s not just that Lena. I mean, look at this place,” he scoffed again when he took another look around, “what is all this stuff?”</p><p>“It’s my stuff. The things you made me put in the storage facility because they ‘didn’t suit the aesthetic’ of my old apartment,” she reminded him. </p><p>It wasn’t even Morgan’s apartment. They lived together at Morgan’s penthouse, but Lena had always kept her own apartment. And yet, he still got to decide what went in it. </p><p>Classic movie posters and old vinyls didn’t make the cut. </p><p>“You just can’t live here Lena,” he said, sighing like she just didn’t get it. </p><p>“That’s not your decision.”</p><p>“How are we supposed to be a couple, <em>in the public eye</em> in case you need reminding, if we don’t live together? If we aren’t seen out together?” he raged, exasperated.</p><p>Lena had pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes for a second to hold back all the words she wanted to say. Wanted to scream really. </p><p>Picturing Kara’s smile, amongst other things, helped with that. </p><p>“Morgan,” she sighed, “people will understand that I don’t want to go out at the moment. Look at me. I can’t even hold a knife and fork properly.”</p><p>Morgan glared at the floor and growled. Actually <em>growled</em>. Then he turned his glare onto Lena. </p><p>“Jesus Christ Lena,” he sneered, “people think the crash was your fault, you do realise that don’t you? They don’t care if you can hold a knife or fork. They <em>do</em> care about who each of us is dating, and at the moment it doesn’t look much like we’re together at all.”</p><p>She’d hit the nail on the head. </p><p>He doesn’t care about her safety or what the quality of the house is; he cares about how it looks that he’s dating someone who lives in this house, he cares about how it looks that they’ve been dating for three years and they aren’t living together, he cares about how it looks that they haven’t been out together in almost a month (despite Lena not leaving her house except for hospital appointments that whole time), he just-</p><p>He doesn’t care about her; he cares about how she makes him look. </p><p>She knew that. She did. But to have it laid out so plainly. Well. It still managed to hurt her feelings. </p><p>“That’s because we’re not together,” Lena said quietly, “now please get out of my house and don’t come back.”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous Lena,” he said indignantly, “I’ll help pack your things. Just go and wait in the car.”</p><p>“No Morgan. I told you to get out of my house,” she repeated, a little harsher that time, “I mean it.”</p><p>She dodged passed him and walked to her front door. He followed a moment later, brisling to himself and walking with heavy steps. </p><p>“I’ll give you a little while longer to get your shit together then Lena. You’ve been through a lot recently and your head isn’t on straight. I’ll help you pack up when you’re ready to behave like an adult again,” he said, his voice wavering with unbridled rage. </p><p>It reminded Lena of when Lillian would tell her to <em>think about what she’d done</em> when she’d cause explosions in Chem class to impress the older students. </p><p>She wanted to laugh and tell him she’s not a child that needs punishing. He saw the smile tugging at the corner of her lips and stormed away. </p><p> “When I said I meant it, that included the ‘don’t come back’ part.”</p><p>Morgan’s eyes went wide, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His mouth opened, but firmly shut again as his jaw clenched and he slammed his car door shut, driving away.</p><p> Lena pinched the bridge of her nose again, shutting her eyes and taking a slow and deep breath. </p><p>Always so dramatic with him. He’s almost worse than Jack was.</p><p>And that’s when she saw Kara. </p><p>Well, at first, she thought it was a stranger. All she saw was baggy waterproof clothes and the cruiser bike which she’d assumed couldn’t have been Kara’s because she owned that old, light blue hunk of metal still parked on the drive. </p><p>As soon as she did recognise Kara’s face beneath the wet mop of hair, all the tension in her muscles edged away. Kara didn’t even have to do anything really, just the reminder of this afternoon and her presence were enough to soothe her. Nevertheless, Kara made her laugh and told her she looked forward to seeing her later, and not only was Lena put at ease by it, but she was happier for it. </p><p>And that’s how she got where she is now: still sat on her couch, watching Felix stand up, stretch, and slowly traipse over to climb onto her lap. She checks her watch yet again in hopes that it’s finally three. </p><p>It’s five minutes to. Exactly like it was the last time she checked. </p><p>Felix climbs into her sling, sits on top of her cast and starts purring.  She smiles down at him, his eyes flicking shut. The reminder of how she got him is always prevalent in her mind at quiet times like this when it’s just her and him. </p><p>It’s usually the same time that she plays a recording of one of Jack’s voicemails, so she doesn’t forget his voice. She doesn’t this time though because the clock is finally striking three. </p><p>Lena carries Felix into the kitchen, leaves him with a snack and hurries next-door, a smile on her face. </p><p>-</p><p>Kara greets her with a hug, a tight, all-encompassing hug. A hug that makes Lena feel fuzzy inside because she can’t remember the last time anyone hugged her <em>at all</em>, let alone like that. </p><p>“Come in, come in. The kitchen is this way,” the blonde says, her smile as bright as Lena’s.</p><p>The Luthor does as she’s told and follows Kara inside. As soon as she does, she’s hit with the overwhelming scent of crisp sandalwood and something earthy that makes Lena think of a bluebell forest she’s never been to. She breathes in deeply.</p><p>It looks as though their ground floors have the same layout, with the living room first, the corridor, bathroom, and extra rooms second, and the kitchen last. They both have lots of white walls, but where Lena’s house would have some neutral grey feature wall, Kara’s is all exposed brick and wooden beams. </p><p>She doesn’t get much of a chance to look around before she’s whisked away into the kitchen. Though she does catch a lot of warm colours and the sound of The Vaccines playing on a record player. Kara’s record collection is a lot more colourful than Lena’s; she knows that much from a single glance. </p><p>“Would you like something to drink?” Kara asks her when they reach their final destination, “I’ve got water, juice, coffee, and tea. Oh, yeah, and Lemon Barley Water...<em>obviously</em>.”</p><p>“Lemon Barley Water? I don’t think I’ve ever tried that one.” </p><p>Kara’s eyes grow comically wide at that and then she’s dashing to a shelf, pulling a bottle down and pouring out the drink. </p><p>During this time, Lena takes a curious peak around the room.</p><p>The kitchen is very… <em>full</em>. There are bowls stacked up on shelves, seemingly random pots pushed up anywhere they can fit on the same shelves, utensils and frying pans of varying sizes and styles hanging from the plate rack, a tray full of all kinds of sauces Lena’s never even heard of before (<em>what is banana ketchup?</em>), and there are a <em>lot</em> of plants. Every single spare inch of Kara’s kitchen has a plant on it. There are cactus’, succulents, ferns, stone plants, carnivorous plants, and (Lena’s favourite) plants that are just leaves for most of the year. </p><p>Even with everything going on in it, it still… works for Kara. </p><p>Somehow it fits the eccentric blonde perfectly. If her organised chaos had been manifested as a kitchen, this is exactly how Lena would’ve pictured it. She smiles at that thought. </p><p>“Here,” Kara passes her the glass of murky water with a grin on her face, “you’re gonna love this.”</p><p>Lena swaps her the bottle of wine for the glass and takes a cautionary sip. </p><p>“Mmm. This is actually good!” Lena chuckles into her glass when she sees Kara’s excited grin turn smug, though her eyes don’t move from the wine bottle. </p><p>She drinks almost all the rest of the glass of the lemony drink whilst Kara stays focused on the wine. </p><p>“Oh erm, I bought your plate back,” Lena says, motioning to her heavier than usual sling where the indent of a plate is evident on the fabric.</p><p>“Oh thank you!” Kara finally tears her eyes away from the bottle and manages to manoeuvre the plate out of Lena’s sling, “it’s my favourite plate.”</p><p>Lena laughs at the happy look on her face as she flips the plate over in her hands. </p><p>“Why’s that?” she asks. </p><p>“Yellow is my favourite colour,” Kars says simply, stacking the plate away. </p><p><em>Of course it is.</em> </p><p>Kara turns back around, bottle of wine still in hand. “Lena. How expensive was this?” she asks warily. </p><p>“I’m not sure, what bottle is it?” she asks. </p><p>Lena just picked whatever bottle was at the top of the rack in her kitchen. </p><p>“Château Lafite Rothschild 2010,” Kara reads out, getting each syllable wrong as she does.</p><p>It hits Lena then that it was what her mother gave her as a ‘get well soon’ gift. A <em>great</em> gift considering Lena couldn’t drink. It’s just been sat on the rack taunting her for weeks. </p><p>“I don’t know. It was from my mother,” she answers, knowing it’s most likely over $1000.</p><p>“Your mother? Don’t you want to save it for… I don’t know, something more important?” Kara asks. </p><p>“This is important to me,” Lena replies, a little bit too earnestly for her liking, “and besides. I’m celebrating.”</p><p>Kara takes a moment to reply back. “Celebrating what?” </p><p>“Being able to drink again. My doctor said I’m all in the clear,” Lena chuckles, “here.”</p><p>Lena holds her hand out for the bottle and Kara hands it over. Thanks to Kara’s lack of cabinet doors, she’s able to find the wine glasses easily and pours them both a liberal amount to drink. She leaves the bottle on the cleared counter and hands one of the glasses over to Kara, who takes a testing sip. </p><p>Lena does the same with a small smile on her face when she sees Kara’s eyebrows shoot up. </p><p>Then Kara holds up her glass. “To drinking expensive wine and recovery,” she toasts. </p><p>Lena laughs and clinks her drink with Kara’s, both taking long sips afterwards. </p><p>Kara laughs too, putting the wine down, and spins around to face her kitchen table. “Well, we’ve got everything we’ll need to make two amazing batches of brownies,” she grins.</p><p>Lena takes another sip from her glass before also putting it down beside her lemon barley water and watching Kara pull out bowls and wooden spoons from all over the place. “Let’s get started,” she says, an amused smile on her face at the blonde’s enthusiasm. </p><p>-</p><p>Lena doesn’t remember baking ever being this fun. </p><p>They started out fine. Kara did all the mixing, Lena weighed out each ingredient and got the baking trays ready. </p><p>It all started to go wrong when Kara took off her shirt to reveal no less than a racer back tank top- one that exposed her biceps, her shoulders, and her <em>ridiculously</em> ripped back muscles. </p><p>Lena could barely take her eyes off the blonde as she stirred the batter, her muscles flexing and her neck straining from the amount of mixture there was in the metal bowl, all the while chatting seemingly effortlessly. </p><p>Lena had to drink more than one glass of wine. Kara, it appears, had a thing for making her feel <em>parched</em>. </p><p>Then they got on to the flour. </p><p>Not only did they manage to get it everywhere, including in their hair, but Kara had started making awful baking puns at around that time too.</p><p>“This isn’t the first time someone’s managed to get a whole bag of flour on my kitchen floor…. <em>not in the yeast</em>,” the blonde had tried to say with a straight face and failed miserably.</p><p>“Can you pop them in the oven whilst I mop the… <em>flour</em>?” she didn’t even bother concealing her laughter that time.</p><p>“I know you wanted to decorate them with marshmallows, but I’ve got a <em>batter</em> idea,” Kara choked out, holding up dinosaur-shaped chocolate sprinkles.</p><p>And now they’re eating takeout for dinner (because it ended up taking longer than expected with the whole flour disaster), a plate of brownies cooling in the kitchen, and wine in hand as they lounge back in the living room.</p><p>As Kara stuffs her face with as much pizza as she can, Lena steals a look around the space as non-obviously as she can.  </p><p>The thing that catches Lena’s attention the most is the number of pictures covering the walls. Well, it’s Kara’s bright smile in every photo that catches her attention first, but when she looks at the photo’s for longer, she can’t help getting curious about them.</p><p>There are photos on the wall of Birthdays, Christmas’, vacations, anniversaries, graduations, tourist attractions, days out, big music-festival-like events, and even one from Kara’s prom which is as cute as it is amusing- she’s wearing grass-stained <em>jeans</em>, a crumpled shirt with a yellow, flowery tie, and a pair of tatty red chucks.</p><p><em>Lillian would have a heart attack if Lena had worn any one of those things to her prom.</em> </p><p>Lena asks Kara about who all the people in the photos are and the blonde is more than happy to tell her with a large grin on her face. </p><p>Most of the photos are of her and someone called Alex, who is Kara’s sister. (The blonde mentions adoption but Lena doesn’t get the chance to ask her more about it before she’s talking about her college days). </p><p>As Kara gets older in each picture, more people start to become reoccurring in them too. It starts out with just her sister- a few with an older blonde woman Lena thinks look’s a lot like Alex too- but soon moves on to a short man called Winn and his wife Lyra- who apparently live opposite them, and then a man called James that Kara met at the local bar, after that comes Alex’s <em>girlfriend</em> Maggie, a woman called Nia and her boyfriend Querl ‘Brainy’ Dox- who Kara also met at the local bar, and a couple of other people (mostly women) who dip into the occasional photograph that Kara doesn’t put a name to. </p><p>It doesn’t surprise Lena really. </p><p>For someone as sunny and friendly as Kara is, it’d be more shocking if she had any fewer friends than she does. There’s something about Kara that just draws people in. Hell, it drew Lena in even before she helped her get her washing in two days ago. </p><p>Lena also notices Kara’s record collection too. It’s pushed up against one of the walls, a T.V taking up the majority of the space with an extensive range of CD’s either side of it. Lena didn’t realise anyone <em>still</em> owned CD’s (a technological ‘advancement’ Lena personally believes should never have been made). </p><p>A few of the clear collection favorites have been pinned up on the wall. Namely, The smiths, ABBA, Blondie, the Pixies, and MGMT, as well as a few others the Luthor doesn’t recognise. </p><p>As well as the record collection and wall of photographs in the living room, there are three shelves of books, all of which seem to be fiction and romance novels or something along those lines, a large number of houseplants (much less than in the kitchen, but still a significant amount), and a fuck tonne of warm-colored expressionist art dotted about the room. It’s hard not to notice the canvases that range in size and… explicitness, especially not the nudist pieces that are leaned against the wall below the bookshelves... ones that manage a lot of detail on a woman’s breasts in one or two messy strokes of paint. </p><p>Beside her, Kara coughs harshly. </p><p>Lena snaps her head back to Kara, who has an amused smile tugging at her lips. </p><p>
  <em> Caught. </em>
</p><p>A blush floods Lena’s usually pale cheeks and she has to look away, focusing on her food this time, to stop the blonde from picking up on her embarrassment too much. </p><p>“You can look you know?” Kara says softly, “that is kinda what they were made for.”</p><p>“I wasn’t- I- I was seeing what kind of books you have,” Lena manages to splutter out her worst told lie ever. </p><p>“Uhuh, sure you were,” the blonde chuckles. </p><p>Lena’s taken back to boarding school when they went on a fieldtrip to a museum and all the other girls teased her for looking at <em>’Danaë</em> by Klimt' for a second too long. </p><p>“I was! You have a lot of Jane Austen,” she exasperates. </p><p>“I believe you,” Kara teases. </p><p>Lena flushes an even darker shade of red, knowing that Kara doesn’t believe her at all <em>and</em> caught her looking at women’s… breasts. She gulps down the rest of her wine. </p><p>Once the embarrassment dies down and they’ve both finished their food, they sit further back on Kara’s comfortably worn-in couch to face each other better. </p><p>“Hey, I wanted to ask you about something actually,” the blonde starts out carefully.</p><p>Immediately Lena’s heart jumps into her throat. “What is it?” she asks. </p><p>“It’s about earlier when that guy came out of your house.”</p><p>“Oh.” Of all the things going through Lena’s mind at that moment, Morgan Edge was not one of them. “What about him?” Lena questions. </p><p>“Every time I see him around here, he seems… angry. I was just wondering if he was a brother or something?” Kara asks. </p><p>“Oh, no. He’s actually more of an ex,” Lena laughs bitterly, “definitely not a brother.”</p><p>“An ex?” Kara’s eyes widen, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realise-.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Lena quickly assures with a laugh, “it’s not that big of a deal.”</p><p>“He seems to think it is,” Kara notes. </p><p>“He thinks everything in his life is a big deal.”</p><p>Kara laughs at that. “He does look a little bit… how should I say this? Proud.”</p><p>“You can say arrogant Kara,” Lena chuckles, “you wouldn’t be wrong.”</p><p>“I didn’t want to be rude,” the blonde grins playfully, “I was actually going to say pretentious.”</p><p> Lena snorts out a laugh. “Make sure he never hears you saying that.”</p><p>“Maybe I want him to hear,” Kara shrugs, the grin growing.</p><p>“I can’t say I wouldn’t like to see that,” Lena replies.</p><p>The conversation comes to a lull whilst Kara takes another sip of her wine. Lena is significantly ahead of Kara in the amount of wine they’ve both been drinking, but there’s no doubt Lena’s tolerance is higher because they’re both reaching the point of being tipsy together. </p><p>Lena’s shoes fall to the floor as she tucks her legs beneath her on the couch better and she leans back on her hand. Kara sits cross-legged, shoes still on, opposite her with the plate of brownies on the spare cushion between them. </p><p>“Is it okay for me to ask what happened between you two?” Kara eventually asks. </p><p>Lena takes a bite of brownie to stall as she thinks of an answer that wouldn’t sound too much like the truth. “It had been coming to an end a while before it actually did. We just weren’t good for each other,” Lena says.</p><p>“How long were you together for?” </p><p>“Three years,” she sighs, thinking back on all that wasted time. </p><p>“Wow, geez. That’s… a long time.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“If you guys broke up, why does he keep coming over?” Kara questions, sounding genuinely confused. </p><p>“It’s a little bit more complicated than that,” Lena thinks over what she’s about to say, “our families have known each other for a long time, and Morgan and I have always been put together. Everyone just expected us to, you know… be together forever. It looks bad for my family if I break up with him, and it will look bad for him if people start to make assumptions.”</p><p>“<em>If</em> you break up with him?” Kara’s brows furrow. “I thought you said you’d ended it?”</p><p>“That’s what I meant when I said complicated. I did end it. More permanently today in fact. But Morgan… he finds it hard to listen. It’s kind of not over until he’s ready for it to be,” she does her best to explain. </p><p>“What?!” Kara exclaims, a large piece of brownie muffling the sound, “so you broke up with him and he just said <em>no</em>??”</p><p>Lena laughs at the summary. “Basically yeah.”</p><p>“Wow,” she collapses back into the couch again, “no offense Lena, but I don’t like this guy very much.”</p><p>She laughs even harder, prompting Kara to join in too. Lena even lets herself ugly laugh, which could be because of the wine or how comfortable she feels around Kara. She’s only naturally laughed in front of Morgan once, two years ago, and he told her it wasn’t ‘attractive’ so she stopped. It feels good to do it again. </p><p>“What about you?” Lena prods, “have you got any bad ex’s?” </p><p>“Oh my god, no,” Kara smiles with a sigh, “all my exes have ended up becoming close friends of mine or, like with Mike, it was a disaster and we never saw each other again. My conscience is clean.”</p><p>“What happened with Mike?” </p><p>“Well, you know, we knew each other as kids so we had a lot in common: we got on well together, then we ended up getting together, and then he cheated on me and ran off to Canada,” Kara says it as though she’s mentally ticking off a list. </p><p>“Oh my,” Lena cringes, “no offense to you too Kara, but I don’t like that guy very much at all either.”</p><p>“Non taken Lena,” Kara beams, “I very much feel the same way.”</p><p>Lena goes to pour herself another glass but realises the wine bottle is empty.</p><p>“Which of your close friends are ex’s?” she asks, leaving her empty glass on a side table. </p><p>“Oh, erm. The only one you’ll probably ever meet is James,” Kara says, pointing to a picture where said man has his arms wrapped around her and the Statue of Liberty is in the background. </p><p>Lena’s heart jumps at the mention of her possibly meeting Kara’s friends in the future. It means Kara maybe (hopefully) intends for them to be friends too, not just neighbors. </p><p>“James,” she repeats, “what happened there?”</p><p>“Oh you know,” Kara moves her hands about, sloshing what’s left of the wine in her glass a little too much, as she speaks, “it was a mutual decision, we both felt we were better as friends.”</p><p>“And, are you better as friends?” </p><p>“I think so,” Kara smiles, “he’s with Lucy now. They make a tough team to beat on Game Night. Even for Winn and Lyra, and those two are huge nerds.”</p><p>The anecdote makes Lena smile too, a lopsided smile thanks to being slightly inebriated though. “Who’s your partner on Game Night?” she asks naively. </p><p>Kara’s smile falters then and she clears her throat. “Nobody at the moment. It used to be Alex, but she’s got Maggie now. Before that it was James. Sometimes people can’t make it though, so I can go with whoever needs a partner.”</p><p>Lena can tell Kara forces her smile as she shrugs. Instead of saying something Kara’s probably heard a million times before, she takes the blonde’s hand and squeezes it tightly. </p><p>“Would you like to go see the stars with me?” she asks. </p><p>Kara glances up from her hands, a surprised look on her face. She nods her head and they make their way into Kara’s kitchen, where she opens the backdoor so they can go out.</p><p>Even as they sit down on the steps leading down into the blonde’s garden, their hands stay clasped together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey readers! I hope you liked this chapter, sorry it was a bit late. It's been a stressful few weeks. </p><p>Let me know what you thought. :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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